Suddenly, Clay asked the Holy King Guren, "So what now?"
His voice carried across the hall without hesitation, as if everything that had just happened was nothing more than a short conversation that had already passed.
The Holy King leaned back on his throne, his fingers lightly tapping the armrest as his golden eyes rested on Clay. For a moment, he did not answer. Instead, he looked at the ministers, then at Cross, then back at Clay again.
Then, slowly, he began to speak.
"A king…"
His voice was calm, but it carried weight, the kind that pressed against the chest of anyone who heard it.
"A king does not go back on his word."
The hall quieted once more.
"From the moment a decree leaves the mouth of a king, it is no longer just a statement. It becomes law. It becomes the will of the land itself. It becomes something that binds not only the one who hears it, but also the one who speaks it."
He paused, letting his words sink into every corner of the hall.
