They were all going to hear King George III's speech.
Fors wrapped her scarf around herself and said quietly, "I never imagined Backlund would become like this in such a short time."
Xio was still wearing her Knight's Outfit. Her short hair was frizzy and looked somewhat untidy, and her youthful-looking face was utterly serious. "I investigated in secret. In theory, the war shouldn't have had such a severe impact on Backlund so quickly. It's mainly those grain merchants and rich people. They've kept fanning the flames, spreading terror about the war and using it as an excuse to keep raising prices."
"Those damned profiteers!" Fors said bitterly.
"It's not just a matter of profiteering."
"Huh?"
Xio said gravely, "I suspect someone is directing them to do this. Normally, when war breaks out at the front, shouldn't the rear do everything possible to maintain an appearance of peace and stability? Why are the authorities turning a blind eye to this spreading of fear?"
"Fear may breed terror, but it can also turn into hatred, and hatred is easier to exploit."
"And so we have the King's speech today."
Fors understood. "Ah, I see." She gritted her teeth. "That damned..."
George III.
As the two drew closer to Anniversary Square, more and more people appeared ahead of them. Some wore formal suits and carried canes, dressed as gentlemen; some wore deep black dresses in somber shades; others wore workers' clothes. Most looked sallow, hungry, and exhausted.
They came from streets in every direction, merging at intersections and converging into a mighty torrent at the square's entrance.
As citizen after citizen joined them, the enormous square soon filled. They did not care whether there were seats. They stood in the cold wind, looking toward where the King would appear.
At precisely nine,