The murmuring of the gathered lords began almost at once — soft ripples of whispering voices passing like a restless wind through the great tent.Heads leaned together, hands half-covered mouths, eyes darting between Lord Eurenis and where Alpheo sat.
A common thought passed through their minds,Was he gonna kill him before they could get guest's rights?
Eurenis himself stood frozen, confusion clouding his worn features. He looked as though he scarcely understood what offense he had committed, blinking once, twice, under the pressure of a hundred staring eyes.
Alpheo, calm as a man at a chessboard, simply studied him for a long breath before speaking, his voice carrying a lightness that barely concealed the iron beneath.
"It is," said Alpheo with a slow, almost instructive tone, "the custom, Lord Eurenis, for a man receiving the grace of the crown to kneel... not merely bow... when kissing the royal ring.Do you believe yourself above it?"
