"Kaelen Blackthorn, escort Her Highness safely to her room," the Empress commands, her voice leaving no room for negotiation.
Tsk... I grit my teeth. Iknow their game. Once those pristine, cold-hearted papers are signed, they won't even spare a glance at my revised policies.
Their trade routes will open, and they will pave them over the bones of the poor. To them, the people near the border are just friction to be smoothed over. They call it order. I call it convenience built on suffering.
I look at Kael with firm determination. He doesn't move an inch. I know it's dangerous—disobeying the Empress in front of the assembled might of two races is practically treason—but the annoyance is clawing at my throat. Should I back down? Fix it later?
No! If I walk out now, I'll be buried under their mockery. Nothing will change. They'll keep treating other bloodlines as lesser, seeing women as playthings, and trampling the Felyr and Beast races under their boots!
