In Rushmarsh's great hall, candlelight flickered.
A servant entered with a bow, his voice low.
"Lord Suleiman, Lord Lymond went hunting today. He departed this morning."
The servant paused, then added, "The Governor ordered that all affairs be handled by you, Lord Suleiman."
At the head of the long table, Suleiman remained expressionless, as though the news came as no surprise.
With a slight wave of his hand, he dismissed the servant in silence.
The atmosphere around the table grew subtle.
Olivier, chief steward of the Governor's council, watched the room without betraying anything. A sheet of paper and a pen lay before him.
Maester Rooney flipped through the parchments at hand, seemingly preparing to record something.
Only the master of coin, the fat Hubbard, had beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
His bloated body shifted in the chair, producing a faint creak.
Suleiman's gaze settled on him. "Master of Coin, how are the territory's finances?"
At once, Hubbard squeezed himself up from his seat, clutching a ledger scroll.
His voice carried a trace of flattery, mixed with worry he could not conceal.
"Lord Suleiman, your mercy is rare in the Seven Kingdoms."
"No, rare in all the world."
He began with a compliment.
"By abolishing all harsh and miscellaneous taxes, collecting taxes solely by acreage, and setting the lowest rate at one-tenth per acre, you have made the common folk of the Seven Kingdoms sing your praises."
Hubbard swallowed, then changed his tone.
"But, my lord, the finances... are truly... dire."
He carefully watched Suleiman's expression.
"We have abolished the poll tax, the hearth tax, and all those assorted marriage taxes..."
"Now, our only source of revenue is the land tax."
Hubbard deliberately paused, allowing the tension to spread through the meeting.
Suleiman raised a hand, signaling for