Many of them looked at one another the moment her words settled into the room. Not just quick glances either. It was proper looks. The kind where people silently tried to read what the others were thinking without actually speaking first. A few eyebrows raised. Some narrowed their eyes slightly. Others simply leaned back in their seats, arms folded, quietly measuring the weight of what had just been said.
These people sitting and standing here were not simple opportunists.
At least, not entirely.
For the most part, they were individuals who held a deep loyalty to the throne itself rather than to whatever short-term benefits they could squeeze out of it. That kind of loyalty didn't come from nowhere. It came from generations of service, bloodlines that had stood beside the crown for centuries, and the stubborn pride that came with belonging to something larger than yourself.
Of course, that didn't mean they were saints.
