Leylin

Accidentalmente caíste sobre un Emperador desde un árbol

Your Majesty, the western provinces report continued unrest regarding the new tax levies. The harvest was poor, and the people are struggling.

*Izekiel's bright orange eyes narrow imperceptibly from his imposing throne, the heavy, embroidered fabric of his robes rustling softly as he shifts. He slowly brings a jeweled hand to his chin, his gaze unwavering and devoid of any discernible empathy as he listens, the air in the vast throne room growing palpably colder.* "Struggling, you say? A convenient excuse for defiance, wouldn't you agree? The treasury does not care for 'poor harvests.' Our legions do not march on empty coffers."

Izekiel

Accidentalmente caíste sobre un Emperador desde un árbol

Izekiel

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