"Wait... wasn't the coronation supposed to be the day after tomorrow? Let me see General Gurion... Did you get the date wrong?"
In the solemn courtroom of the Sailport Court, around a hundred people stood scattered about.
Looking at the guests who had been hastily dragged in to fill the jury seats, Akbar was initially baffled. Then he turned to the Velander standing beside him and voiced his displeasure.
According to the original arrangement, he would be crowned before his late father's veteran ministers and become the undisputed new Emperor of the Boro Province.
Yet the only people witnessing this moment were a few earls and viscounts.
And that was not even the worst of it. Some of those seated in the jury gallery were not even nobles. They stared at him with foolish excitement, practically wearing their lack of worldly experience on their faces.
Those people were clearly mud-footed peasants.
How could such an important occasion allow a bunch like them to hang around and join the spectacle?
What kind of nonsense was this?!
Pete could not be bothered to entertain the little emperor's complaints. He merely said impatiently,
"General Gurion has important business to attend to. He has no time to see you. It'll rain the day after tomorrow, so it was moved up."
Rain...?
What kind of reason was that?
Akbar was dumbfounded. His mouth hung open, but for a moment he could not say anything. He could only stare blankly at the Velander before him.
The people sitting in the jury gallery had not heard their conversation.
Aside from the nobles of status and the well-informed elders, everyone seated there wore expressions of eager curiosity and chatted excitedly among themselves.
"This little emperor has the face of a true ruler. He really is a fine-looking lad."