"I'm very pleased you could attend tomorrow's ceremony, my friend."
T'Challa met the Emperor of Latveria in a brightly lit palace corridor. Princess Shuri and the newly selected Royal Guard accompanied him; they would serve as witnesses at his coronation ceremony tomorrow. Yet all their attention was drawn to the three-meter-tall, gold-armored guard following behind the Emperor of Latveria. Shuri in particular was intensely curious about Hammurabi's Power Armor and modifications, having been excluded from the Praetorian Guard program from beginning to end.
"You must attend tonight's banquet." Having resolved one of his concerns, T'Challa was in an exceptionally good mood. "You've never enjoyed a Wakandan state banquet before. I'm sure you'll be satisfied tonight."
"I have no doubt of that," the Emperor of Latveria said with a smile. In the Wakandans' eyes, he wore a crisp bespoke suit, with a subtle yet splendid eagle pin fastened to the fabric—an outfit perfectly suited to a state visit and an important occasion. "I believe tonight we can discuss further cooperation in space and Wakanda's open-door policy. Naturally, that depends on there being enough fine wine to enjoy. Princess Shuri, I believe you have quite a say in this matter."
"When you need an orbital forge, yes, I do have a say."
"I can't make sense of that stuff, my friend. Looking at those numbers gives me a headache." T'Challa smiled and shook his head. "There's another event at tonight's banquet. My mother didn't want me to tell you, but I think you should know. Tonight, we'll hold a public trial for the chief culprit behind the Vienna Bombing, seek justice for my father, and show every tribe that I am qualified to inherit the throne. It's merely a formality. I don't understand why everyone else is treating it so seriously. The