Istanbul, capital of the High Gate Kingdom.
In a palace filled with silk and incense, the Sultan reclined on a soft, comfortable seat. A petite, beautiful girl nestled obediently in his arms like a kitten, while several men stood respectfully before him.
"The armies of Roanien, Sloka, and the Viranse Duchy that invaded Shabak have been completely routed by the Empire. They have now sent envoys requesting your aid, Sultan, to defend-"
"Pay them no mind."
The Sultan kept his eyes closed as the girl in his arms slipped a grape into his mouth, and he chewed it with relish.
"That was bait the Empire put out in the first place. It isn't as though I never warned them of the risks. But since they made their choice, they must bear the consequences."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
At the Sultan's answer, the man nodded slightly. The others behind him grew impatient, but a look from their companion forced them to restrain their agitation.
For a while, silence settled over the palace. Only the sound of flowing water and the scent of incense filled the space. After an indeterminate stretch of time, the Sultan finally opened his eyes.
"Are you still here about that matter?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Another man standing behind the minister hurried forward and bowed respectfully.
"We beg for your mercy, and we are willing to offer proof of our sincerity."
"I have already felt your sincerity."
Smiling, the Sultan gave the girl a pat. She giggled, her voice so ethereal and pleasing that everyone who heard it felt their hearts quiver.
"But do you think this alone is enough for our High Gate Kingdom to risk a conflict with the Empire?"
"This is not merely for our sake, Your Majesty."
The man raised his head, determination in his