Yeli Wangrong sat to one side, while Yelü Qi had remained seated upright throughout.
While Yeli Wangrong had spoken so confidently earlier, he had merely lowered his head and drunk his wine.
Once the four sides had formed a screen, leaving Yeli Wangrong isolated in the center of the hall,
the envoy from the northern court, who had kept himself apart from the affair until now, finally set down his wine cup.
"A savage remains a savage."
Yeli Wangrong's expression shifted slightly at those words, but he could not lash out.
For Yelü Qi did not wait for him. He set down his empty cup and rose to his full height,
faced the Imperial Throne, straightened his robes, composed his expression, and bowed with clasped hands.
"I, Yelü Qi of Khitan, failed in decorum just now. I humbly beg the Holy Son of Heaven's forgiveness."
No explanation, no defense-only "failed in decorum."
Everyone in the hall had heard him call Yeli Wangrong a "savage."
Yet the offense for which he now sought pardon was not "insulting another," but "failing in decorum."
An insult was a private matter; a breach of decorum was a public one.
Private matters required no plea for pardon. Only public matters demanded a humble petition.
A shift of a single word made the difference in weight plain.
"Khitan ought not to speak at length on this matter.
Affairs on the Western Frontier lie mountains and rivers away from our Northern Borderlands. We have never had any part in them."
Yelü Qi paused briefly, then turned his gaze toward Yeli Wangrong.
"Yeli Wangrong, today we attend an imperial banquet in the Hall of Heavenly Favor. The Son of Heaven of Great Zhou has laid on this grand feast for guests from every direction, displaying the celestial court's