The Restoration Army had sent a delegation of envoys, which came as no surprise to Chris. In fact, it was the Republic's decision to launch a war without sending anyone first that seemed rather unusual.
The delegation consisted of over three hundred people, with three nobles serving as its leaders. Dirac was not among them, nor was there any envoy authorized to represent him. Their purpose in coming to see Chris was simple.
With the eldest prince refusing to return home, the Restoration Army needed a political figurehead.
From the Restoration Army's perspective, Prince Chris was neither too important nor too insignificant, and he held little prestige within its ranks. He was clearly suited to becoming a figurehead-a puppet the nobles could manipulate as they pleased.
Thus, when the three men entered Chris's office, the first words spoken by their leader, an envoy dressed in a noble's robes, carried a pointed implication.
"Your Highness should change into attire befitting your station."
The remark was extremely rude. Combined with the speaker's narrowed eyes and upturned lips-an apparent smile that actually conveyed mockery and contempt-it told Chris that his suspicions had been correct.
What a truly disheartening fact.
Clearly, the expulsion of Bagnia's Royal Family had stripped the country's nobles of any awe or respect for its members.
"What sort of clothes should I change into?"
Chris set down his pen and looked up at the three men before him. He neither rose nor asked their names or families... even as a prince, his behavior was decidedly discourteous.
The three nobles realized that things were taking an unpleasant turn. After the other two cast mildly reproachful looks at the noble who had spoken first, the second stepped forward, placed one hand over his chest, and bowed to Chris.
"The Restoration Army Council