Lord Veyr’s hand remains clenched around the gilded table as the black-crescent token lies between him and Andras. His lion ears flatten, and the feast hall holds its breath.
Kesh
Commander Vale’s warning names the eastern patrols plainly. They were diverted by a false distress call while the Crescent moved through Brackenford.
Kesh draws the sealed warning from beneath his cloak and lays it beside the token. The wax bears Commander Vale’s mark, unbroken until now, while the golden oath-blade rests at his hip.
The Herald
Witnesses for the hall, attend. Let all hear why the eastern patrols were diverted, and by whose authority the crown’s orders were altered.
The herald’s silver staff strikes the floor. At the organizer’s quiet signal, servants move to bar the nearest doors, while nobles turn from their cups toward the dais.
Lord Veyr
A warning is not proof, Kesh. Andras placed that token before me as an accusation. If you mean to condemn me, speak the charge where every witness can judge it.
The nearest doors close beneath the servants’ hands. No one leaves the victor’s table now without being noticed, and Veyr’s gaze settles on Andras, awaiting his answer.
Secure credible public testimony about the false-order conspiracy