As the butler finished speaking, a small ensemble of six musicians in the corner began to play.
A few lutes and flutes, accompanied by a small hand drum, played an old local folk song.
The melody was lilting, but the sparse ensemble lent it an added air of desolation.
Then several elderly servants filed in carrying trays.
There was no lavish spread of delicacies, only thick cuts of roast lamb, root vegetables sprinkled with coarse salt, and freshly baked rye bread.
The food smelled hearty, but the earthenware platters and pewter wine jugs were clearly old, their edges marked with dents and chips.
On either side of the long table, Valerius and Philip each headed their own faction of vassals, the divide unmistakable. Nearly all the subordinate nobles of Dawn Territory had arrived, with all five barons and more than twenty knights present.
The nobles' female relatives sat at the lower end of the long table.
They concealed half their faces behind feather fans and whispered among themselves, their gazes, whether open or furtive, all converging on Veylin.
"That's the Baron of Gray Marsh Fief? He looks like a clerk," a young knight who had only recently received his fief whispered to the companion beside him.
"I heard he didn't even bring a guard. He rode here alone."
"Alone? Does he think he's taking a stroll through the Royal Capital's gardens?"
"Watch what you say. His surname is Klein, that great family from Hundred Flowers Province. Maybe he's some youngest son who was kicked out and came here to try his luck."
Among the women, a baron's wife hid her mouth behind her fan and chuckled to her companion.
"He does have a handsome face. No wonder Count Diana invited him. A pity a pretty face won't fill an empty