Before Horace could recover from his elder brother's overly enthusiastic introduction, Godfrey swept his gaze around Roundtable Hold. His brow suddenly furrowed, and the smile on his face faded a little.
"Where's Crepus?" His voice rose above the noise in the hall.
"My brother is here. As head of the Black Knife Assassins, why hasn't he come out to meet him? Does he think Godfrey's brother isn't worthy of his presence?"
A Black Knife Assassin immediately stepped out of the crowd and bowed to Godfrey. "My king, please quell your anger. Master Crepus handles intelligence and operations, and his identity must remain secret. He cannot show himself at present. This is necessary for his work, not a sign of disrespect toward you or Duke Horace."
The explanation was perfectly reasonable. Such was indeed the nature of the Black Knife Assassins' work.
Yet today, Godfrey seemed unusually "unreasonable."
Though normally boisterous, he often gave his subordinates considerable respect and autonomy.
At this moment, however, he was behaving with utter unreasonableness, seemingly on purpose.
Particularly noteworthy was the absence of Serosh, the Beast Regent who usually perched on Godfrey's shoulder to "counsel" him.
An attendant quietly explained that, after days of mental exhaustion, Serosh was "catching up on sleep" in the next room (in truth, he had collapsed from exhaustion).
Without this rational "brake," Godfrey's unquestionable air of a "barbarian king" was unleashed without restraint.
"Cannot show himself?" Godfrey took a step forward, the oppressive presence of his towering frame silencing the entire hall.
"Before me, Godfrey, in my Roundtable Hold, what identity still needs to skulk in hiding? The way I see it, he has no regard for me as king!"
He abruptly raised his voice like a roaring lion, the sound making the beams and pillars hum. **"Crepus! Get out