Reiner followed Emperor Glen's orders with unwavering resolve. The moment the command landed, he shut down the entire party without blinking. Music cut out, dancers backed off, and nobles were firmly instructed to head back to their lodgings. He delivered the message respectfully, never talking down to anyone, but his tone made it crystal clear: there was zero room for pushback. Not even a sliver. And yet, you could almost hear the storm of unanswered questions buzzing in their heads: why the heck was Earl Reiner Jürgen Von Wilhelm halting a celebration that wasn't even under his jurisdiction?
Whispers spread like wildfire. The nobles threw shade, murmuring insults under their breath, some casting dagger-like glances in Reiner's direction. To them, this Earl was way outta line, crashing a harvest festival in a land that wasn't even his turf. But Reiner didn't let the noise get to him. He tuned it out, eyes forward, ears shut. Let them judge. Let them stew. He didn't give a damn.
