When night fell and Tales and Jann stepped into the resplendent Banquet Hall, the Strife Banquet had been underway for barely an hour. Yet the guests were already exchanging cups and chatting merrily. Some were even flushed with drink, staggering about, while several more uninhibited foreign guests were swaying wildly, singing and dancing in the Iris Garden, howling like ghosts and wolves as they competed to outsing one another.
This gave Tales a new impression of South Bank's banquet customs: the food and wine never stopped, the bards and musicians played without pause, and there was no need to wait for the host to arrive. The guests could start an all-night revelry on their own.
"Our... guests. They come from all across the Seven Seas," was Jann's pale and feeble explanation, his face especially ashen when he saw two drunk Ligudan Principality guests wrestling in his garden for everyone's entertainment, trampling the lawn and attracting countless onlookers. "This, um, demonstrates Emerald City's broad-minded inclusiveness."
Duke Tales cautiously expressed his admiration.
After all, Northlanders did nothing but eat, drink, and fight.
But for that very reason, when the two dukes took their seats, Tales encountered neither the thunderous cries of a royal banquet nor the sensation of being surrounded by wolves in Dragoncloud City's Banquet Hall. Along the way, guests who recognized them naturally smiled respectfully and bowed in greeting, while those who did not continued to immerse themselves in the festive atmosphere. The young man felt a long-lost sense of ease.
"Thanks to you," Jann said with an unpleasant expression. "This year's guests are more numerous and more distinguished than in previous years. Just look at this banquet. Many people I never expected have come—everyone thinks there is an opportunity to exploit."
Tales's eyes lit up. "And that means..."
Jann