The Proper Incentive
The Queen of Tamarang was a nuisance. "Agree to whatever she wishes," Darken said impatiently to General Egremont for what must have been the fiftieth time. Why was he burdened with this wholly unnecessary report?
"Yes, my Lord," Egremont said, "But this part here, where the Queen asks for total freedom from taxation—"
Darken whirled, turning on Egremont and snatching the parchment from his hand. He tossed it contemptuously to the floor, not even bothering to throw it on the fire. It was of no importance.
"If that is the proper incentive," he said softly, "by all means, let Tamarang be declared a tax-free zone."
As though, once he had the power of Orden, they would not all be falling over themselves to give him whatever he wished. Perhaps he could indeed do away with state-mandated taxes—make it a voluntary sign of devotion.
Darken's lips curved upward at the thought—he might organize it after he received the daily loyalty oath. How appropriate.
As for the Queen of Tamarang—she was not even worthy of his ire. He remembered her well—would the Keeper even consider her soul adequate recompense for a day in the Land of the Living? It seemed such a small, shrinking thing.
The cost of living was going down all the time. Darken smirked in anticipation.