"When show respect. Told to wear."
As Massasoit dons the crown and holds the scepter to the ground, it becomes even clearer that he is the ruler of this area. François unconsciously bows his head in surprise and whispers to Samuel:
"...European Regalia!"
"Re...ga... what's that?"
"Ah, nothing, Massasoit. Nothing at all."
"...Gift, it is."
Massasoit says to the French in still awkward English, but with a much more dignified appearance than before.
The French, who were full of wariness toward the savages just moments ago, relax their posture, and reverence enters their voices.
"Gi...ft?"
"Yes."
"From whom exactly?"
"..."
"..."
"...Raleigh."
Raleigh! Walter Raleigh! Baron of Roanoke!
The confidant of Queen Elizabeth, the saint of London, the lord of Virginia!
François, who trembled at that name, almost fainted at Massasoit's following words.
"Gift... from Raleigh's chief."