And that was just the area in front of the entrance, before the crowd that swarmed at them from every side, leaving only space of the carpet empty.
The room in front of her was more than forty meters (133 feet) long and over thirty meters (100 feet) wide.
It was taller than a three-floor building, with balconies on the upper levels where people not important enough to stand near the Royals would still be able to spectate at the ceremony.
They were the less coveted spot since from there it was impossible to mingle with the other nobles and to take part in palace gossip, but that day even the corridors leading to the opera boxes were crowded, splitting the Royal Court into four levels based on their importance.
A single red silk carpet with gold embroidered edges going from the three meters (10 feet) wide double doors up to the two steps that distanced the floor where nobles stood and the dais for the royal family.
That way, even while sitting on their golden thrones, the rulers of the Kingdom would be able to look down on everyone present, reaffirming their status and authority.
Every corner and box of the Banquet Hall was lit by crystal chandeliers fueled by mana crystals dating back to Valeron himself. The First King had hoped that by sharing their eternal light with his descendants, they would also inherit his vision for the country he had built.
On the walls, magically enchanted tapestries would project in a loop the great feats that the current King had accomplished to be deemed worthy of the throne. Both the floor and the pillars were realized from gold veined marble, the most precious and robust material available in the Griffon Kingdom.
“It’s not really a middle name.” Lith replied. “More like a way to tag me and remind everyone of who I really am. The question is whether the Royals used it to remind everyone that they don’t care about my true nature or me of how precarious my standing is.
“Either way, I don’t care.” He looked around the room while keeping his head high.
Many had opened their mouths to comment on his return, yet no matter if they deemed him a hero or a shameless opportunist, the moment they met his gaze, their jaws remained hanging.
Under his deep blue Archmage robe, he wore the full uniform of the Kingdom.
It was comprised of a deep blue jacket with golden epaulets, deep blue mid-waisted trousers with galon, a braid of trim consisting of two silk stripes to conceal the outer seams, and black shoes.
He wore a silver brooch shaped like a Phoenix with rubies for eyes on the collar of his white shirt. The gold embroideries on the lapels and the sleeves of his jacket were shaped like feathers.
Thanks to Soluspedia, both his attire and knowledge of the Court etiquette were flawless.
Neither his clothes nor manners were the reason for the shock that spread throughout the ground floor and brought those on the balconies to lean forward to the point of needing help to not fall off.
It was because of the black upside-down membranous wings that came out of his back, whose finger-like bone spikes interlocked in front of his neck like the latch of a mantle. Also, small black curved horns came out of his temples and his vertical pupils were emphasized by the unnatural color of his three eyes.
Lith kept open only those that he had in common with the humans and the emerald vertical eye in the middle of his forehead. The other four remained closed, but their eyelids formed creases on his tanned skin that made his inhuman nature even more evident.
As he smiled at the crowd, they could see the rows of white fangs that now replaced his teeth. No matter how warm his smile and how kind his gaze was, those watching him felt like sheep in the presence of a predator.
It was different from the awed silence that the Elder Hydra and the Magic Empress had previously inspired. None of them had used killing intent, it was just the natural effect that their presence exuded.
For Fyrwal it was charisma, for Milea authority, while for Lith something that escaped their understanding, triggering their natural fear of the unknown.
“Since the cat is out of the bag, there’s no reason to keep up with the appearances.” He said while Kamila relaxed seeing how the nobles were much more afraid of her than she of them.
“They were expecting a monster in human’s clothing so they can’t complain if I give them exactly what they want. I’m done hiding who I am and what I can do. If someone has a problem with it, it’s none of my business.”
Only once he moved past them did people regain control over their bodies. As Lith moved forward, more and more nobles started chatting. They were just whispering to each other yet soon the murmur of their voices drowned out the music.
“Raaz Verhen and Elina Verhen.” Yet the moment the valet announced his parents’ names, the upper echelons of the whole Kingdom had their stomachs churn in unison, and the Royal Chamberlain suffered from a mild stroke.
Never before had people with no title nor magical achievements of sorts been announced in the Banquet Hall. It was an unprecedented breach of protocol that made even the Royals wince for a second before regaining their cool.
Raaz wore a white tie suit that consisted of a black coat with tails over a white shirt, a waistcoat, and a white bow tie worn around a standing wingtip collar. It had been tailor-made and fitted him like a glove.
If not for his rough and callous hands there was nothing that betrayed his humble origins. Once he had been terrified of public events and being a source of embarrassment for his children.
In the past, his knees would always betray him and he would spend most part of the galas looking at the floor as if he had crashed the party instead of being invited. After being kidnapped by the men of Baronet Hogum and what Orpal had done to him, however, Raaz couldn’t care less.
He walked proudly with his head held high, returning in kind the contemptuous looks and disgusted grimaces without deigning them of a second look.
At his arm, Elina wore a beautiful pale-yellow evening dress with a shallow v neckline decorated with floral lace and pearls that covered her shoulders but left her arms exposed.
Like Kamila, her parure had been forgemastered to resemble fiery roses woven together, forming a circlet, a necklace, and earrings. She looked at the nobles crowding the room in defiance, wishing that one of them would be stupid enough to openly violate the Royal Decree that guaranteed her hospitality.
She had no love left for the Kingdom. The only corner of Mogar that mattered to her was her farm in Lutia. Everything else might as well burn for all she cared. In her book, those who mistreated her family deserved no respect.
“Mage Tista Verhen and Sergeant First Class Trion Verhen.” The Royal Valet announced, making so many heads turn so fast that he wouldn’t have been surprised if they provoked a sudden gust of wind.
For once it wasn’t Tista arousing the morbid curiosity of a crowd but her date.
