If one had to pick the most extravagant place in the Tartun Empire, the Council Palace would win hands down.
Magic-rich Red Dragon hide covered the entire palace, keeping Montreal Mountain as warm as spring even in Deepwinter. Whale oil, more extravagant than the Eternal Magic Lamp, burned without end. Rock Giant skin wrapped the pillars. Above the steps stood the Bone Seat, made from the skulls of Ratfolk Elders—a sight Elves found barbaric and Orcs found gentle. Sitting on it for long must have been murder on the backside.
At least they had shown some respect to the Elves, Dwarves, and Orcs, the other major races that had emerged from Wilhelm: none of their skins or bones appeared in this palace.
Now a young figure wearing a crown lounged on that uncomfortable throne of bones.
"Beautiful Envoy, have you come to visit me late at night in hopes of a delightful date across the boundaries of our races?"
"Ruler of Tatuun, I want to discuss the Foreign Races Edict."
"Beautiful Elf lady, I cannot do that. The Foreign Races Edict was decided by all the Thirteen High Kings—"
The Southlands have twisted the Foreign Races Edict into slaughter and enslavement. You can ignore it too," Elder Tadel interrupted him.
The young emperor did not mind in the slightest. He shook his head. "No. A decision of the Holy Temple Council cannot be questioned. It is the foundation of humanity."
"Is the slaughter and enslavement of Elves also your foundation?"
Elder Tadel's voice grew colder. She was about to ask whether humanity was prepared to be attacked by Elves, Orcs, and Dwarves when a voice suddenly rang in her ear: "Hello? Hello? Is this Iri... Is this the envoy?"
After a brief silence, a faint smile thawed Elder Tadel's expression.