Tiny specks of dust seemed to dance in the shaft of afternoon sunlight that slanted through the window of the throne room. He had been avoiding this meeting, claiming that he was sick. It was the excuse Arman had given the dowager of his absence. By the time he had come back from the forest, the outside world was celebrating, dancing, eating. Enjoying every moment of it, while the women in the forest fought for their lives.
Pathetic.
Now, as he sat amid his fifteen ministers, with Arman standing by his left just beside his throne, and his grandmother just by his right on her veiled throne.
Staring up ahead, Eduardo wanted nothing more than to rip off their heads from their necks. Nothing would've made him happier than that. Ever since the council meeting had begun, the prime minister an
