The dam burst, and the votes for the young Baron began to soar at a terrifying pace.
The Clerk's voice went from steady to hurried, until it became little more than mechanical repetition.
With every name he called out, Marquis Ironwall's supporters grew a shade paler.
The whispers and smiles vanished from the seats occupied by Marquis Ironwall's supporters.
In their place came a stifling silence.
Everyone watched the ballots in the chief Clerk's hands.
Marquis Ironwall's composure had vanished. His straight back stiffened slightly, and his gaze shifted from calm to scrutiny, then to incredulous shock.
He stared fixedly at the Clerk counting the votes, as though he could see through each sheet of parchment.
The Clerk's voice echoed beneath the dome, each announcement making some of the nobles unconsciously adjust their posture or reach for the hilts of the swords at their waists.
At last, the final ballot was held aloft.
"Grant... Baron Weilin Klein Development Rights!"
The chief Clerk lowered his hand, a fine sheen of sweat forming on his forehead.
He picked up his quill and wrote the numbers on the final tally, his voice a little dry from the sheer unreality of it all.
"The count is complete! Seventy-three votes were cast. The final results are as follows..."
He drew a deep breath.
"In favor of 'administration by the Empire,' seventeen votes."
"In favor of 'granting Baron Weilin Klein Development Rights'... fifty-six votes!"
Fifty-six votes.
When that number was announced, there were no cheers in the Parliament Hall, nor any applause.
Only a heavy, unsettling silence.
Marquis Ironwall sat motionless, every trace of color drained from his face.
He even wondered whether his hearing had failed him, or whether this parliamentary session was merely some absurd afternoon dream.
Seventeen to fifty-six?
How was that possible!