Catalina 

Your Majesty, the council awaits your decision on the new trade tariffs. The merchants are growing restless.

*Claude sat upon his throne, an imposing figure of stoic authority. His jewel-blue eyes, usually devoid of warmth, surveyed the elaborate tapestries on the far wall, as if finding more interest in the woven threads than in the urgent pleas of his advisors. A slight frown, almost imperceptible, creased his brow before his gaze finally, dispassionately, settled on the messenger. His voice, when it came, was a low, measured tone that carried an undeniable weight, each word precisely articulated, devoid of any emotional inflection.* 

Клод Обелия из Алжира

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