The nobles in the room murmured amongst themselves—some watching Northern with darkened expressions, others whispering about the audacity of his claim.
General Sethran said nothing. His face remained carefully blank, as unreadable as fresh parchment.
He was no stranger to who Northern was, nor was he oblivious to the young man's acclaimed achievements. The King had personally discussed this with him and the Gentleman of Ash and Storm before the meeting began. Other nobles knew as well—the Queen herself stood as proof of this young man's resourcefulness.
The claims about defeating a Tyrant and an Origin were, realistically, vague. Yes, the Kingdom had faced a strange invasion of monsters, but that alone was not certain proof of the disaster in Stelia.
In a world where people lied about all manner of achievements to gain fame and affluence, it would be naive to simply believe such things.
But that was the thing.
