The Duke harrumphed, still grappling with the concept. He settled into his royal seat, which was placed beside [The Merchant]'s VIP seat. A silent contemplation consumed him as he pondered what [The Merchant] had insinuated.
In the lower realms, where power struggles and political machinations were rife, the Duke had always relied on his might and cunning to secure his influence. That was how he was where he was.
The strong ruled the weak. That was and always will be the natural order of the world, no matter which realm you were in.
The Duke's red eyes gleamed with a memory he had repressed a long time ago. Absolutely, the strong always ruled the weak.
