The next morning, the Crown Regent did not waste a single breath.
Inside the Royal Chancery, scribes were already assembling at long tables when Lancelot entered. He strode through the arched doorway flanked by his guards, Alicia at his side, and motioned for the heralds to stand by.
"Bring out the proclamation forms," Lancelot ordered.
"Yes, Your Highness," the lead scribe replied, already unrolling fresh parchment and preparing the ink.
Lancelot moved to the center dais. There, he began dictating—his voice steady, firm, and without hesitation. He knew what was at stake. The nation was a tinderbox, and any hesitation now would be taken as weakness. He needed to speak not just with authority—but finality.
"This is to be issued under the Seal of the Crown Regent. Let every noble house, ecclesiastical office, and city council receive a copy within seventy-two hours."