"Praise you! Lord Joao..."
Joao II sat still, his deep-set eye sockets seeming to flicker with two ghostly flames. The three stewards remained kneeling, equally motionless. Duke Manuel stood two steps away, a hint of nervousness on his face. After a few moments, it was Bishop Diogo who lightly coughed and stepped forward.
"Ahem! Holy Mother, protect us! Your Majesty... Your time is running out..."
"Hmm."
Joao II uttered a soft "Hmm," finally shifting his gaze from the heavens to the courtiers in the hall, each harboring their own thoughts. The stewards he personally promoted, the noble navigators he cultivated, the great nobility he suppressed, the bishops he once controlled and ultimately lost control over... and this seemingly ordinary, peaceful, and gentle cousin next to him—the unanimously chosen heir to the throne!
"Hoo..."
Joao II exhaled a deep breath and beckoned to Manuel.
"Come here!"
"..."
