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"Only two hours!"

"Two hours isn't that much, young man!" And old man, sitting on a bench under the statue, shouted. "You should go drink more, to impress the lady!" The soldier let out a loud laugh and then went to rejoin his comrades.

"Pour me more! I needa impress the girl there!" He croaked at his compatriots while the old man shook his head.

I meant for ceremonial duties and stuff :v

Suddenly!

An arm wrapped around Efa's waist as a drunken soldier, still wearing his imperial breastplate, hugged her. He had a pleasant face and lovely brown hair, but was thoroughly smashed and his breath reeked of alcohol.

"Ayyy, such a beauty shouldn't wander alone on such wonderful night! Come have a drink with us all!" He said, waving at his companions and so other ladies who were drinking equally heavily between nearby tavern and a statue in middle of nearby plaza.

"W-what!" The Magister clutched his chest and Fyra stood up to tend to him, while Spymaster snickered.

"Ha ha haaa! Now this is rich." Fyra helped the Magister regain himself, while General Carlinn looked at Grifen, dumbfounded.

"I... I apologize, but I do not believe I follow, Magister..." Magister Torriani sat properly, dismissing Fyra with a gentle touch, and then he looked at Grifen, at her face, at her dark green hair.

"My dear child. There is a little known fact that Emperor Troy V had three children of lawful marriage. Three sons, of which two died in infancy, and the third one ran away in his youth to pursue his craft of medicine and herbalism. Troy VI wasn't of the lawful marriage, as he was a bastard born of Troy V and one of his harem ladies. That's why neither Empress Helra nor current Emperor had and have, respectively, dark green hair." Others listened attentively.

"My father was a close friend and acquitance of that one prince, whose birth-given name was Alain. But once out of the court, what would be the best way to cut the past than change one's name? He switched his name to... Lyon." The Imperial officers paled while the Spymaster couldn't stop giggling at the sheer improbability of this happenstance. Magister Torriani stood up and walked up to Grifen, taking her young hands into his old, wrinkled ones.

"My dear child." He said, whispering, his voice trembling. "Young lady. Listen, the last time my father met Prince Alain, or Lyon, was fifty-some years ago, when he boasted that he had a beautiful baby girl with some Mireosian woman. Do you understand? You are the great-grandchild of Troy V! You should be sitting on the Imperial Throne right now!" The Spymaster stopped giggling, but kept smirking, while the Imperial officers were frozen in silence.

Sorry for pushing Sirus :c

Magister took the blade and stared at it intently, checking out the sheath, the hilt, then its sides and the leatherwork.

"It is authentic Crown Blade, that's for sure." General Carlinn let out a hum while Magister, with utmost care, returned the sheathed blade to Julius.

"So, after seventy years, we will have Troy's descendant as a pretender for the throne..."

"I've told you!" Magister Torriani let out a huff.

"Not so fast my dear Commander." Magister shifted on his chair, turning toward others. "They do have the blood of Troy Lionheart in them, but we have to trace their lineage. He looked at Grifen and Julius. "Dear children, who are your parents, where do they come from, and which of them has or had a dark green hair?"

The elders murmured at the sight.

After a while, the robed man nodded.

"May I... see the blade. And the sheath. Both are equally important."

"Then I should take you to my friends." And she took them, via twisting passages with low ceilings, which Julius experienced twice with his own forehead.

They have entered a room that was bathed in darkness. There was a table, and on top of it a lit candle was being covered by a ladle, of all things. Soon however a hand took the ladle away, and the fully lit candle illuminated faces of four men. Commander Fyra sat amongst four others; three of them wore Imperial armor, one had an exquisite robe with Imperial emblem on it, and the last was wearing traveling gear and extravagant shade of blue hair.

A white-haired man was the eldest amongst the five. He rubbed his moustache and then looked at Julius, then Grifen.

"Those are descendants of Troy you told us about?" Commander Fyra nodded. The robed man leaned forward in his seat, looking intently at Julius.

"Mm, hmm, yeees. The hair color is close, quite close, to that of Troy V. Mayhaps they speak the truth."

"The Crown Blade. We have heard, from Commander Fyra, that you can both wield it, and that the boy have spoken with the ghost of the First Emperor. Is that all true?"