Grand Knight Verren.
Michael did not need Seria to explain that name.
Even he, who ignored most politics, knew it.
This was someone at the very peak of the kingdom's strength.
Renn did not even need to be a noble.
With that title behind him, even a commoner would have been treated as high nobility.
The fact that he was already a baron's son only made the matter easier to accept.
Which was why no one spoke.
Mouths that had been half open to object closed without a sound.
Eyes that had been filled with disdain cooled into calculation.
Grand Knight Verren had always kept himself far from court games.
He answered directly to the crown.
He did not attach himself to factions, did not attend banquets like this, and rarely took personal disciples.
And now his first and only disciple was standing among the ten.
Of course he would.
Here and there, a few nobles finally connected the name to a recent memory.
The duke's competition.
The youth with a wooden sword.
