Harven.
Blonde hair, sharp eyes, a face that carried enough resemblance to the king that you didn't need anyone to tell you whose blood he shared. The second son of the royal family, given this role several years ago, and by most accounts he'd handled it well enough.
He delivered judgments. Fairly, usually.
The Silfords had never given him reason to do otherwise; they were one of the few noble families that had no dirt on them, nothing to dig up, nothing to hold over their heads.
Until now apparently.
He frowned, eyes moving across the file in front of him.
"I am certainly sure he did," he said. "The evidence before us is quite clear."
He turned a page.
"Furthermore." He paused, letting the weight of what came next land properly. "Two S ranks lost their lives at the hands of the Nine Tails; a beast directly connected to your son."
The hall erupted.
"Wait—" someone said. "S ranks? Dead?"
"The Nine Tails? That Nine Tails?"
"The Calamity Fox is involved in this?"
