Golden Yellow and Charcoal Black

Pycelle's words had barely fallen when the entire petition hall seemed to have been struck by lightning, plunging instantly into a strange, deathly silence.

The noisy whispers and murmured conversations abruptly ceased, as if an invisible hand had clamped tightly over them.

Then...

Buzz!

The hall erupted in an uproar. The people in the front rows wore expressions of utter shock, while those in the back stood on tiptoe and craned their necks.

A buzzing wave of discussion broke out afterward, growing louder and louder like a surging tide that nearly drowned the entire petition hall.

Pycelle stood there weeping bitterly. Arianne Nymeros Martell's pupils contracted, and she then turned her gaze to the right.

Gryn still maintained the majesty of a Lord Regent. Yet... the knuckles of the hand gripping his chair's armrest had turned white, more than enough to reveal the turmoil within him.

Then Princess Arianne's gaze passed over Gryn and settled on another man to his right—the Tyrell Lord Hand.

His puffed cheeks had gone pale, his lips trembled faintly, and his gaze locked onto Pycelle below as though he wished to see straight through him.

Seeing this, Arianne's dark eyes shifted slightly, and the corner of her lips curled in an almost imperceptible smile.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Crack. The Master of Household repeatedly struck the wooden board, until the hammer handle in his hand snapped beneath the force.

Mace Tyrell abruptly rose to his feet and shouted, "Pycelle! Insulting and slandering the king is a capital crime!"

The commotion on the dais gradually lowered the surrounding noise, and everyone's attention turned toward them.

Startled by Lord Mace, Pycelle shrank back. Princess Arianne spoke then, "My respected Lord Hand, no one may prevent a petitioner from speaking. Besides, how did you know in advance that Grand