Arthur knew that his words had hit Rowan's weak spot, but he had no intention of rubbing salt into the wound.
He leaned half against Rowan's desk with his arms crossed: "Officer, I hope you take this matter seriously. On the surface, it seems like just another mundane court farce, the usual arrogance of noble ruffians. But in reality, it's a major issue involving the stability of Britain for decades to come."
Rowan looked at him: "How so?"
Arthur lit his pipe and took a slow puff: "His Majesty the King is already 70 years old and is about to celebrate his 71st birthday. I don't mean to curse, but everyone knows he has little time left. The choice of a successor will determine the future political direction of the entire country. But think about it, what choices do the English people have before them now?"
