That fellow is a maverick, sitting in the corner to his left.
Newcastle remembered that the gentleman's name seemed to be Ferguson, a Scholar from some Church School, said to be quite reputable in the academic circles of the Ryan Kingdom.
At this moment, this stocky "Raidog" had his arms tightly crossed over his chest, his face dark as he stared fiercely at those noisy Nobles, with a defiant look.
Newcastle's lips involuntarily curled into an odd smile, recalling the speech given by this Scholar gentleman at yesterday's "warm-up conference"—
"In our Kingdom, more than ninety percent of the population are commoners, yet I only see six chairs! Gentlemen! Only six chairs, and one of them even belongs to a Campbell person! Commoners' seats only occupy 3%!"
"Baron Wickton, you don't need to pretend you care about us, and there's certainly no need to put on a show by inviting me here to humiliate me!"
