Golden Wheat Province was the promised land the Empire took such pride in, and the most dazzling jewel atop the scepter of the royal family's private holdings.
It was early August, and the midday sunlight poured without restraint over the vast plain.
An extravagantly luxurious four-wheeled carriage rolled slowly through this golden sea. Its body was built entirely from expensive dragonblood redwood, and the magnificent griffins carved into its four corner posts concealed magic crystals, keeping the interior at a comfortable, springlike temperature year-round.
Provincial Governor Moulton pushed open the carved window, his gaze glued to the rolling waves of wheat.
"Three years..." Moulton rubbed the rim of his wineglass, reminiscence showing in his eyes.
Back then, to secure the lucrative post of governor of Golden Wheat Province, he had nearly drained his family's entire fortune greasing the palms of the powerful in the Imperial Capital.
Still, you got what you paid for, and that enormous gamble had clearly been worth it. Over those three years, he had used every trick at his disposal, seizing property through fraud and force until he had acquired sixteen large estates on this fertile land.
Whenever the wind blew, the heavy ears of wheat knocked against one another. To his ears, their rustling sounded exactly like the crisp clink of gold coins dropping into his purse.
Moulton tallied the figures in his head. Once this season's harvest was in his pocket, he would have recouped the astronomical sum he had spent buying his office. From then on, every copper would be pure profit.
"Look at that color. That's flowing gold."
Moulton tipped his head back and drained his wine. Pointing outside with a ruby-ringed finger, he told the tax official riding beside the carriage, "Tell those bloodsuckers in the military that I have all