The garden of the Ring-Mountain Palace.
A carpet of White Dragon hide, lavish magical gemstone lamps, and maids as lovely as flowers weaving through the banquet with solid-gold trays like fluttering butterflies. Royal Nobility gathered to discuss the victory in the south: the northbound McKennan Ratfolk had been stopped at the southern border.
And the man most responsible for holding them back was the First Prince, Clo, whom the Holy Eye had chosen for the Holy Temple Council.
Ancient families, church Saintesses, envoys from other nations... Reclining against the Throne, the First Prince looked down at their almost fawning attempts to curry favor with him, now that his claim to the throne was secure. His gaze swept the crowd. "Why hasn't Mr. Mel come?"
One noble hurried to answer. "The Eighth Holy Grail Knight went to find the Fifteenth Holy Grail Knight earlier."
"Oh... the Southlands... I hope he finds Mr. Perkins." The languid First Prince seemed to smile. The noble, who had paid dearly for a place at the victory banquet, hastened to ask, "Your Majesty, what should we—"
"I'm not king yet," the First Prince interrupted.
"But the Kingdom already recognizes you as its new king." A flush spread across the noble's face when he saw the First Prince's pleased expression. "Your Majesty, how should we punish that King of the North?"
"Punish him? The King of the North warned us about the Ratfolk in the south," the First Prince said with amusement.
A graying noble objected. "But he conspired with the Second Prince to rebel, and he killed Galt, Grand Commander of the Loyal Knights..."
"What are you saying, Count? He's one of our heroes!" The First Prince's exclamation silenced the noble. Then he said earnestly, "I believe the King of the North is loyal to the