"Alright," he said slowly, "since that's how it is, if respect can only be given to strength, and not to thought or intention… then so be it. I can't change your minds that were clouded by your centuries of age and millennia of tradition."
He glanced at the gathered leaders, cold and unreadable.
"Continue in your ways. I won't stop you from thinking what you want to think. As long as you follow my decrees, I don't care."
A few of the Pavilion Masters exchanged wary glances. Several Clan Lords adjusted their posture to straighten their backs, sensing something coming.
Azzy leaned back, resting one arm on the throne, his fingers tracing the armrest. "And now, I have orders for you. Heed my new orders."
The effect was immediate.
All eyes snapped to him. They went down to one knee, "Your Majesty."
Azzy's voice rang clear across the hall:
