After shaking off the officials who had been pestering him, Radagon returned alone to Marika's bedchamber.
There were ministers willing to risk their lives to offer honest counsel. They disapproved of simply abolishing the Combat Festival. Even if it had to be canceled, there needed to be a gradual transition so the people could accept it more readily.
Clearly, Radagon paid them no heed. He believed cutting through the mess in one swift stroke was the clear choice. A so-called "gradual transition" would only leave everyone reluctant to let go.
Hesitation when a decision was needed would only invite trouble, so he simply refused to see the ministers at all.
It was that simple.
The bedchamber of Goddess Marika beneath the Erdtree had already seen two Elden Lords. The circular room contained a shell-shaped stone bed and other furniture.
It appeared to have been designed to fit Godfrey's build, so it looked enormous. Stone tablets covered in unreadable Ancient Script were piled behind the bed.
Golden light spilled through the skylight overhead, allowing the Goddess to bathe in the Erdtree's radiance at all times.
The Elden Lords had no rooms of their own because they had married into her household. It was that simple.
The doors were tightly shut, and Elden Lord Radagon was locked in an inner struggle.
"Disarmament? Are you serious?"
Marika's voice rang out in Radagon's mind.
Radagon looked toward the dressing mirror on the cabinet, only to find Marika reflected in it.
The beautiful Marika wore her long golden hair in a braid thrown behind her back and was dressed in the same clothes as Radagon.
She angrily swung her fists into the mirror, her golden eyes wide. "And you're abolishing the Combat Festival too? Have you lost your mind?"
Radagon lifted a lock of his