After the elongated stay in the food corner, Isaac and Evangeline finally got to return to their table, one that was occupied by no one else but themselves, with the lesser nobles who had fled earlier showing no sign of return.
The nobles no longer watched them in that of mockery or amusement. Cassiopeia, Vesper, and above all, Caspian's actions seem to have given them an impression that even though Isaac is Nameless and worthless, he wasn't someone to be seen lightly.
In silence, Isaac and Evangeline ate. After the appetizer, the main dish arrived.
Chewing on one piece of steak, Isaac scanned the room.
Randal Ursula. Marlene Raven. Sera Voss. There were familiar faces here and there; in fact, it appeared that about half of the nobles present in this banquet were the ones who reside in Golden Repose.
In no time, Isaac located Magnus, who was seated at a distant table. Coincidentally, Magnus found him at the same time; he gave a lively wave of his hand with his usual smile on his face. People in the same table traced where Magnus's eyes were headed, found Isaac, and immediately turned back, pretending as if they didn't see him.
Isaac waved back, briefly. Without bothering to spend too much attention on Magnus, he moved on to the table adjacent to where Magnus was seated.
There was Elara, seated with a rigid posture that suggested her nervousness. By her side, her partner spoke of something enthusiastically, to which she nodded. She hadn't noticed him yet, or she had, and was simply choosing not to show it.
Subsequently, another noble at her table leaned in and said something with a gesture toward Isaac's direction—to which Isaac wondered if they had a third eye, or if they had a related skill, to be able to catch him watching from distance. In response, Elara's eyes followed the gesture and found Isaac. Her eyes widened, before she immediately turned away from him. She made a nervous laughter, gave a light shrug before pointing her finger toward him as she spoke.
Isaac didn't know what she was saying, but he knew that to induce the laughs out of nobles, it had to be anything but good.
His hand, resting on the table's edge, instinctively brushed against the bulk in his coat pocket. The iron charm was still there. He didn't take it out.
Her reaction was reasonable. She was one of the few commoners who was able to participate this banquet thanks to her partner, and to remain favorable to nobles, she had to sever her connection with him.
He remembered when she encouraged him the day before the Rite. They've been friends since the first year. She was close enough to stand up for him when Jax Wason provoked. He knew that their friendship was genuine.
Therefore, he was fine. It was circumstances that demanded such a reaction out of her.
Evangeline, beside him, followed his gaze and found Elara. "Are you… alright?" Gently, she asked.
"I don't get what you mean," said Isaac.
"You seemed… never mind."
She decided not to pursue this matter further, and returned her attention to the front of the hall as the room's hush deepened further.
Time continued to fly, slower than the usual. Isaac wanted nothing but for this banquet to reach its completion.
At last, the eighth bell arrived.
At the head of the hall, on a raised platform that hadn't been used since the evening began, Prince Gladius Aetherion walked up and stood with the composed bearing of someone who had delivered this kind of address many times and found no comfort in the repetition growing easier. Lyra, seated on a seat a few steps behind where Gladius stood, looked across the participants in that of a flat assessment.
The room's noises died on its own.
"Fellow stars of the nation. I thank you all for attending," Gladius said. His voice carried without effort. "The night is deep, and it is already the end of the festival that we face today." His face darkened, "Now, I know this has not been an ordinary festival. I will not pretend otherwise."
A pause. Gladius let his words sit with the audience, giving them a moment of reflection.
"Two nights ago, an explosion claimed the western quarter and many lives within it. The full accounting is still being compiled. What I can tell you is that the Crown understands the weight of what was lost, and will not treat it lightly." His gaze moved briefly across the room. "The investigation continues, and so does the war. I ask for your patience, and your discretion, in the days ahead."
For a moment, Isaac felt that Gladius's eyes were on him. It was brief enough that no one but him noticed.
"Despite this," Gladius continued, "the Kingdom does not stop. The festival concludes as it always has—not because we are unaffected, but because we refuse to let those responsible believe otherwise."
A murmur of approval moved through portions of the hall.
"As is tradition," Gladius said, "the festival's conclusion brings with it the announcement of this year's tournament stakes." He paused, and it was the specific pause of someone aware that what came next carried more weight than the formality suggested. "Now, what is the tournament? I would argue that it is one of the most important traditions—if not the most important—that defines the Nation Academy of Aetherion Kingdom. Thirty-two students of second-year and third-year higher class will participate and showcase their might as the future leaders—not just to citizens but to our enemies."
Silas leaned forward. Aldric narrowed his eyes Silas, his arms crossed.
"Of course, it is a taxing event for the thirty-two. Incentives of an equivalent scale is a must, and the crown has never been petty in this regard."
Isaac found Caspian, who appeared uninterested. Considering how he was a fourth-year and will no longer participate in the event, it was understandable.
For the past two years, Caspian was the victor of the tournament in both years. Isaac recalled, in those two victories, he was rewarded a hefty amount of gold. This year's reward should be no different.
Gladius paused. Then, "Before announcing the reward of this year's tournament, I must address one relevant issue." He gazed at Aldric Zephyr once, then at Lysander Terra who was seated quite far apart from Aldric. "The crown is aware of the ongoing dispute between House Zephyr and House Terra regarding the possession of Caldwin Pass."
"…Hm?" Isaac was caught off guard by this.
Zephyr. Terra. Betrayal.
Something clicked in his mind, and his eyes slightly widened.
"Isaac?" Evangeline, noticing his change, whispered.
"It is unfortunate to witness the worsening relationship between the two Pillar Houses, especially during times like this."
From here and there, nobles began to realize what Gladius was about to say.
"Don't tell me…"
"—you must be overthinking, there is no way—"
Gladius announced, "this year, by the crown's decision, the tournament's victor will be granted control of the Caldwin Pass."
It was as if the entire banquet was frozen for a moment, as everyone held their breaths.
The reward wasn't the gold. It was the land of gold named Caldwin Pass, which held a significant value as the crucial trading route unlike another.
"…Caldwin Pass." Evangeline breathed. "To the victor of the tournament."
The hall's atmosphere shifted immediately—there rose a ripple of reaction, in the form of hushed conversations that broke out at several tables simultaneously.
"—a land, it's the entire piece of land—"
"This is ridiculous. All of a sudden, the reward changes from gold to land, right when I reached fourth-year—"
"Dream about it. If you were to be a third-year, so is Caspian. If anything, it's him who should be annoyed."
Caldwin Pass lies between the land of House Zephyr and land of House Terra. The dispute has been ongoing ever since the death of its previous owner without a successor. Isaac picked up a glass in front of him. Frowned upon noticing that it held wine. Brought it back down and held another, which contained the water which he took a sip from. If anything, the dispute should've been resolved between Zephyr and Terra. Yet, the royal family put the land itself as the reward. Furthermore, they are now aware of the likelihood that the core of House Terra has defected.
In the past, he expected the royal family to hand over the land to House Zephyr. However, it appeared that the royal family decided to take on a more passive stance, to show nobles that they held no favoritism—at least on the surface.
This year, Aldric Zephyr was the favorite of the tournament. Donaston and Cassiopeia Terra will participate as the part of third- and second-year higher classes, but they had no capability to defeat Aldric.
The royal family was, technically, handing over the land to House Zephyr through indirect means.
Caldwin Pass. Again, it was the crucial route for merchants.
…Irine's family, the Ironway Merchants, relied on this path.
Isaac eyes shifted, looking toward the table where Camilla and Aldric were residing.
Aldric was already looking back at him.
He wasn't smiling at first. Then, slowly, his expression broke into something else—a laugh, low and genuine. It was the kind of laugh that came from somewhere a public banquet hall usually didn't permit. Several nearby nobles glanced toward him in surprise, but nodded understandingly.
Aldric didn't say anything. He didn't need to.
His eyes, fixed on Isaac, carried a gleam that hadn't been there during their earlier exchange—it was that of superiority, of victory. He was already picturing precisely how he intended to use the reward.
Isaac felt tired just by looking at the man. His obsession for Irine seemed to know no end, even if her beauty were to be accounted.
Gladius's attention scanned the room, allowing the announcement to settle. After the murmurs died, he finally opened his mouth.
"The tournament will proceed as scheduled, four months after," he said. "May the strongest among you prove themselves worthy of what is at stake—for yourselves, for your houses, and for the kingdom that watches." He raised the glass of wine that was reserved for him and gave a toast, "long live the kingdom."
"""Long live the kingdom!"""
"Enjoy the rest of the banquet."
Gladius stepped back from the platform's edge, leaving the mass that were giving him an applause.
Isaac watched him go.
Then, Gladius turned. His eyes specifically found Isaac for the second time.
The expression on the prince's face was not hostile. It wasn't warm either. It carried something Isaac couldn't fully categorize—gratitude, perhaps, for what Isaac had done during the festival operation. Or… something else. Something that hadn't existed before the explosion, before the autopsy Isaac didn't yet know had taken place, before a knife wound's specific angle had raised a question Gladius hadn't found a way to dismiss.
Is he…
Henrick was stabbed by his knife, which was taken over by the enemy back then.
Suspicious of me?
Gladius's attention moved on. He walked out of the hall, approached by the members who appeared to have reports to give.
"Caldwin Pass," Evangeline said quietly, beside him. "That's—" Her lips quivered, "that's something else."
"Festival was a failure in the eyes of the crown," Isaac said. "To raise the spirit of the kingdom, the tournament's participants must outperform the expectations, and thus, they placed the land as the stake… is what I think."
Evangeline looked at him, "do you think it will work?"
Isaac glanced at Aldric, whose laughter had settled into something quieter. He had the satisfaction of someone in no hurry at all, because he already knew that the land was for him to take.
"Perhaps," he said, "or, perhaps not."