"Isabel, do you know the Nobles here?"
Annan moved closer to Isabel, who was picking out food. His champion's laurel wreath had been put away, and in her Wheat Ear headpiece and white dress, she looked like an elf.
"That's Duke Bledfeld, that's Duke Glatton, and that's Prince Windir..." Isabel pointed out the great figures Annan could never hope to approach.
"Not them. Um... are there any Nobles from the Montablinlock Duchy at the banquet?"
"Girardi?" Beneath Isabel's impish appearance was a sharp mind. She pulled Annan through the crowd. "There he is. The heir who fled the Montablinlock Duchy."
"Fled?"
Annan saw a young man dressed in finery, worry plain on his face. No one went near him.
"A coup. Grand Duke Brinlock's heirs fought tooth and nail, and Girardi came to the Imperial Capital for help. He'll be thrilled you're here."
Just as Isabel had said, Girardi recognized the young man with the rare black hair and asked Annan to help him reclaim his title.
"You shouldn't ask a young man without even a fief to his name to do something like that." Annan politely declined, abandoning his plan to ask Girardi for help. It was hard to say which of them needed help more.
Besides, when it came to heirs fighting for power... the Second Prince's Life Casket was still sitting in Shelter Cove Town.
If Annan sided with Girardi, the Nobles would only laugh—not at Annan, but at Girardi for grasping at straws.
"If I needed a huge amount of good-quality resources at a fair price, who would be best to approach?"
"Her..." Isabel pointed to a lady in a white silk gown with a fitted waist, her slender fingers holding a wineglass.
"She's the Deputy Minister of the Imperial Procurement Department. But be careful. They