Three days later.
King Kimar sat on his throne, towering above the long table where his gathered nobles waited.
The hall buzzed with outrage, nervous glances, and the shuffling of expensive robes.
The latest reports had arrived. The nobles' complaints followed swiftly.
"Your Majesty! Armand has gone too far. Garius refused to support you, now he's conquered Arjam outright!"
"Yes, Your Majesty. He dares move his army to seize Arjam. Has he forgotten he's merely a count?"
"We demand intervention! Today it's Arjam, who knows whose land he'll covet next? My territory borders Arjam. What's to stop him from eyeing my lands next, or Turka's?"
Kimar's jaw tightened, lips pressed to a thin line as he forced himself to remain composed.
How dare that lowborn upstart provoke my kingdom like this? That bastard Garius. Now he dares move like a sovereign, seizing lands right under my nose, ignoring my authority, making a mockery of my throne.
