Several months later, Cornwall, a town on the outskirts.
As the bright morning sunlight filtered through the thin forest mist and fell upon the land, the earth, having slept through the night, awakened with vibrant life. Wisps of cooking smoke drifted from every household, filling the air with the scent of food and an atmosphere of peace.
Perhaps because they had survived that cruel, lengthy winter, the streets had grown lively again with the arrival of early spring.
And a newly opened shop on a street corner had welcomed hungry customers early in the day, thanks to its distinctive Roman pastries, sweet wine, and secret fig jam.
A steaming plate of focaccia was served, and after a few cups of warmed wine, the diners, their faces flushed from having stayed indoors all winter, could not help gathering in small groups to chat and sigh over recent events.
"Whew, thank goodness. We finally made it through this winter. I thought I was going to freeze or starve to death at home."
"Yeah. Luckily, the lords were kind enough to provide food and clothes for poor folks like us through the winter. Otherwise, who knew how many people would have died this year?"
"Heh, kind? When have those lords ever helped us in past years? It was all because of My King's mercy!"
In the corner, a middle-aged man dressed rather more smartly than the others frowned and sneered, casting a contemptuous glance at his tablemates.
"Hm? What do you mean?"
Knowing his temperament fairly well as a drinking companion, the others tactfully refilled the empty cup before him with wine, pulled him back into his seat, and asked curiously.
"Do you remember how, after winter began, My King summoned lords from every region to the Holy City for an emergency Round