"..." Darian Nightblade was stunned by Marquis Al-Teglang-Franz's behavior. After all, the last person who could switch faces without losing a beat was King Roland. Being able to change so smoothly and naturally proved that the Franz Family really had something to them!
"Cough, cough. Come with us!" Darian Nightblade gave Marquis Al-Teglang-Franz a deep look, then finally accepted that this thing really was an Empire Marquess after receiving confirmation from Grand Duke Ocrean Yaso's gaze... Although he looked rather shabby, his identity was probably real.
"Your Majesty..." Darian Nightblade led the group to the hill where Roland was and reported back.
For the sake of safety and control over the situation, Roland wisely rejected those idiotic suggestions to set up the king's camp right at the entrance of the encampment. Although the idea of letting the people better behold the royal visage and win their hearts did tempt Roland, he understood very well that a gentleman did not stand beneath a crumbling wall. As king, it was best not to go looking for trouble. With others around, wasn't it better to obediently be a ceremonial figurehead? As for winning hearts, that was far too easy! Could these sweet and innocent Middle-earth people possibly compare to the political sophistication of some mysterious Eastern great nation with five thousand years of history?
Hold a grand homecoming ceremony, then distribute grain and money! Have the king lead the effort while senior ministers accompanied him to offer consolation. Finally, Roland would put on a tearful performance of guilt and longing for the wanderers who had been away from home, then "sincerely" issue an edict of self-reproach! Those Lagrangean people of Middle-earth, so pure they were no different from blank sheets of paper, would surely be moved to the point of crying out