The Dark Duke popped another grape into his mouth.
“Very well,” he said, “bring him in.”
He looked out the window toward the bright, sun-lit day. Rahavi, who sat at the other end of the table, motioned to a guardsman, who quickly scurried out of the room.
“I hate this part,” the Dark Duke said.
The door creaked open and a scrawny man with no hair on top stepped nervously into the room, a large scroll held firmly in his hands. He approached the Dark Duke.
“May I sit, Your Highness?” the man asked.
“No.”
“No?” said the man. “But it would be easier, Your Highness, if…”
“Just read the report.”
The man, frightened as a fish out of water, nodded his head profusely and began to unravel the scroll as fast as possible. His mouth quivered with each word.
“A recent survey,” he read, “has indicated that the people are very much unsatisfied. Farming has gone down…”
“Yes, yes,” the Dark Duke waved him on.
“Merchant sales have gone down…”
“Yes, yes. Go on with it.”
“As has grain, arugula, and salt production…”
The Dark Duke leaned up.
“Did you say arugula production?”
The scrawny man glanced down at the list.
“Ah, yes, Sire.”
“Hmf,” the Dark Duke grunted. “I like arugula.” He looked over at Rahavi. “Make sure they keep producing arugula.”
His High Counselor nodded.
“Go on,” the Dark Duke ordered.
The scrawny man consulted the scroll once again and began to rub his bald head.
“Poverty has increased,” he read, “with starvation at an all-time high.” He looked up to see if the Dark Duke wished him to pause, but he didn’t, and so he continued: “More people died this month of disease and malnutrition than last month. Also, rebel activity is down slightly.”
Rahavi proudly bowed his head.
The Dark Duke thought for a moment.
“What about the dukes?” he said. “Any complaints from them?”
“No, Sire.”
The false king nodded approvingly.
“Is there anything else, then?”
“Just the usual, Sire.”
“Which is…?” They loved to hear him say it.
“The taxes, Sire. People wish for you to lower the taxes.”