As I moved my eyes across the crowd, I saw every single one of them raising their hands into the air. Only a fool would refuse such a bargain.
Even if the choice was being made at the edge of a sword, the intrinsic value of their lives was far more important than clinging to the useless, outdated concepts of a fallen civilisation. Survival was the only currency that mattered now, and they were quick to pay the price.
"Go and throw these contracts to them," I said. I roughly scanned the huddle; there were about two hundred and fifty people remaining. From the initial three hundred who had marched out with such arrogance, fifty had been killed in that terrifyingly short span of time.
"Why me?" Isabella asked, though she certainly already knew the answer.
"I'm the king," I said, rolling my eyes at the obviousness of it. "Which king do you know who walks around delivering paperwork like a common messenger?"
