Just as Eleanor was calmly assessing this victory...
A representative who had remained quiet rose unobtrusively. "With Duke Edmund's sudden passing and the Northern Frontier still in turmoil, our defensive line is as fragile as thin ice.
I propose that His Highness Sixth Prince Asta August assume the title of Northern Frontier Governor to oversee the aftermath and restore order."
Heads turned toward him. He was Duke Simmons's representative.
The old man rose from the side of the long table. His tone sounded concerned for the Empire's safety, but beneath it lay a knife's edge.
His proposal was like a stone thrown into still water, sending ripples across its surface.
Another noble immediately stood to second the motion, followed by a third, a fourth...
Most belonged to the Central Noble Faction, though several came from the Imperial Capital's military administration, and some had even served under the Inspectorate's old leadership.
Their expressions differed, but their voices were united:
"This is a sound proposal."
"The Sixth Imperial Prince is of pure royal blood and already holds a nominal domain in the Northern Frontier..."
"With the governorship unresolved, the people have no one to look to..."
"His Sixth Highness is of royal blood. He represents stability..."
This was no spur-of-the-moment idea. It looked like a coordinated effort prepared long in advance.
Eleanor's gaze swept casually over the patterns on the speakers' clothing and their badges, and she reached her conclusion at once.
They came from different factions, yet responded to Simmons with astonishing coordination. Clearly, this joint offensive had been thoroughly discussed beforehand.
More troubling still, those who should have objected immediately... remained silent.
Mace, the head of the Inspectorate, nudged his thin-framed glasses upward, his face as cool and restrained as ever.
General Yoda, who had previously disputed many matters