Anastasia's interruption made Marcos frown slightly. The elders of the Council also looked displeased.
In political meetings, decorum often outweighs efficiency. Anastasia, a merchant obsessed with time and money, could not tolerate wasted time. To her, Marcos' explanation was pointless.
Before one elder could reprimand her, another candidate voiced the same sentiment.
"Reasonable."
It was Crusch, standing confidently beside Anastasia. With her support, dissatisfaction in the room increased.
"Lady Crusch, as head of the House of Karsten, isn't this a bit—"
"Attention to etiquette is important, but limited time cannot be denied," Crusch interrupted firmly. "We should quickly explain why we've been summoned—though I have an inkling already."
"Truly the head of thd House of Karsten," Miklotov murmured. Crusch continued bluntly: "Yes. It's to hold a banquet. Though we will later compete against each other, we are not yet familiar. Sitting together and sharing a drink will allow us to observe each other's character."
"No. That is not the case."
Lillian noticed Crusch waver slightly. He realized that this gathering was likely meant to introduce the fifth candidate, Felt, to the others. Once all five were present, the royal election would officially begin.
Unlike a simple vote, this election spanned three years. During that time, candidates would have to prove themselves in every possible way: earning the support of civil officials through achievements, gaining public favor through acts of goodwill, defeating disasters-level monsters, courting wealthy merchants, maintaining strong relations with the military… all had to be done little by little.
At the end, all their deeds would be compared, and the candidate with the greatest contributions and strength would be chosen. This ensured the elected king would command respect.
"In that case, I withdraw my statement."
Crusch admitted her mistake without hesitation—a mark of her charisma. Anastasia, however, waved dismissively: "Even if Crusch withdraws, I still stand by my opinion. Everyone knows how the royal election works, right?" She looked to the other candidates for their input.
Crusch nodded in agreement. Priscilla simply ignored her, disdain written on her face. Only Emilia hesitated: "I—I think we should at least listen to the rest…"
"Sorry, I didn't ask for your opinion."
Anastasia's cold, unyielding words ignited Subaru, who was standing among the knights.
"Bastard! What kind of attitude is that?!"
Several people nearby heard him and froze. Lillian glanced at him, understanding—if he liked Emilia, he'd naturally feel anger at such disregard. But Lillian knew that acting on impulse in such a setting could be dangerous.
If Subaru were strong enough to take on everyone present, fine. But otherwise, anger only highlighted weakness and could endanger the person he cared about.
The knights' shocked expressions were understandable. A true knight upheld "decorum" at all times, showing respect even to enemies of their liege, addressing them with "my lord" after their name.
Calling someone a "bastard" directly was highly disrespectful—especially in front of Anastasia's loyal knights, who now glared at him. Had the roles been reversed, and Emilia treated Anastasia coldly, their reactions would differ.
Lillian glanced at Al. In the original storyline, Al would have stepped forward to defuse the situation. But with the plot altered, he hadn't yet intervened.
"You—"
Just as one of Anastasia's knights seemed about to retaliate verbally, Lillian raised a hand and said, "Sorry, I don't quite understand how this royal election works. Could Captain Marcose explain it further?"
All eyes turned to him, a mix of curiosity, suspicion, and contempt. Few present had any idea who he was—dressed in an expensive suit, standing among the knights, he was conspicuous from the start, along with Al and Subaru.
"You…"
Marcos looked at Lillian, puzzled. He didn't recognize the black-haired youth, whose attire was out of place among everyone. Only the candidates, Lillian, Al, Subaru, and Roswaal—the court's chief mage—stood apart. He knew the others, but Lillian's identity and allegiance remained a mystery.
"He was brought by me—" Priscilla began, pausing mid-sentence. She seemed unsure how to define her relationship with Lillian. After a few seconds, she said, "…A friend?"
Her tone carried a hint of doubt—but not about "friendship." She wondered why Lillian had suddenly spoken up. Though usually indifferent, he didn't act like this without reason.
She was correct. Lillian's intervention served no purpose other than drawing attention. Protecting Subaru? No.
He had no particular feelings for Subaru, yet remaining silent could allow a verbal clash to escalate. In this hall, violence was unlikely, but grudges among knights could easily turn dangerous. Better to intervene preemptively.
Subaru noticed Lillian and gave him a grateful glance, thinking: Maybe Emilia misjudged him. He helped me once in the alley before, even if he doesn't remember… and now again. He might really be a good person.
"Lady Priscilla, bringing a friend to a setting like this seems inappropriate."
A familiar voice spoke—Julius, known as the "Best Knight." Perhaps he couldn't tolerate it as Anastasia's First Knight.
Priscilla, however, remained defiant, her orange eyes full of disdain: "It is my freedom to bring whomever I choose. Mind your own business."
Julius's face stiffened. He wanted to argue further, but Anastasia waved him off. He restrained himself and returned to his place.
"…Then, Lady Priscilla, since this youth is your friend, do you think it's necessary to explain the royal election to him?"
Marcos asked. Priscilla glanced at Lillian, who remained calm as if unaware of the near conflict. She snorted: "If he wants to know, then tell him. It saves me from wasting my time answering later."
"And the opinions of the other priestesses?"
Marcos turned to the other candidates. Anastasia and Crusch preferred to skip the explanation. Initially, it was a two-to-one, but with Priscilla and Emilia agreeing, the vote was tied. Continuing the argument would waste more time.
"Then, Captain Marcos, please continue," Anastasia said.
Crusch nodded in agreement.
Marcos continued: "Returning to what I was saying: those whose insignias shone earlier have qualified as 'Dragon Priestesses.' According to the newly inscribed prophecy on the Dragon Insignia, when the Lugunica Covenant is broken, a new leader will guide the nation. This leader must be chosen from among you."
"Correct," Miklotov said solemnly.
"The inscriptions reflect the will of the Divine Dragon. Since the Covenant was made, the Dragon Insignia has recorded events that threaten the kingdom's fate. Following its guidance is our duty."
Other sages nodded in agreement.
"Yes. Thanks to the Dragon Volcanica and the Dragon Insignia, we have avoided many catastrophes that could have destroyed the kingdom."
"Indeed. In the past, famine like the 'Great Famine of Cudegra,' or the nightmare of the evil dragon Valgren, and more recently, the 'Black Serpent's devastation'—early warnings reduced the damage to a minimum."
"Yes. The Dragon's prophecies are known and relied upon. The future of the kingdom depends on following them."
Listening to the sages, Lillian inwardly smirked. To him, "prophecies" were dubious. This world operated on causality.