Speech Square.
The surrounding buildings had clearly been carefully tended to; even the iron fence that had originally stood around the Marshal's Rostrum had been removed.
Yet the number of police officers and soldiers on guard had not decreased in the slightest. If anything, it had increased.
After all, many of the kingdom's important figures were coming to hear this speech. One careless mistake could lead to disaster!
Directly before the rostrum, in the best spot, a raised platform had long since been erected.
Count Lundel, Duke Aergai, Marquis Russell, Marquis Caventi...
All manner of high-ranking nobles and dignitaries rarely seen in everyday life sat upon the platform, yet the two seats at the very center—the most distinguished seats of all—were left empty.
Tap, tap!
Accompanied by the sound of footsteps, the royal guards marched into the square. King Arthur VI and his Queen stepped down from their carriage.
Everyone present immediately rose to their feet and saluted...
Arthur VI smiled and raised a hand in acknowledgment. Every movement of his seemed flawlessly polished, as though specially trained. Taking the Queen's hand, he led her to the seats of honor.
Winter had not yet passed. Cold winds swept through the square from time to time, and with night approaching, the temperature plummeted.
Many in the audience began to shiver and stamp their feet, secretly regretting not wearing their thickest fur coats.
Even the many nobles on the platform secretly frowned, feeling that Ferret, Pope of the Church of the Holy Spirit, was being far too arrogant. The time he had chosen for the speech was also highly questionable.
Just then, surrounded by numerous church personnel, a plain carriage slowly pulled up at the edge of the square.
An elderly butler dressed immaculately in a white shirt and black waistcoat personally