"Those are foolish words," the old merchant said. "You burned his land, killed his Generals, slaughtered his troops. He would not cede anything willingly to you."
"I did not say willingly," Queen Asabel said. Only now did she understand the significance of the way her father had handed her the crown. It was a gift that was difficult to see, but in the forum of such debate, it gave her a mighty platform to launch her attacks from. "But in losing, he gave it to me nonetheless."
"I fail to believe that any man would," the young merchant said, drumming his fingers against the table. "Do you have proof?"
"Do you require proof?" Queen Asabel said. "Or do you doubt the Pendragon House? Do you look upon the sigil of the dragon that we have been allowed to bear since the time of the First King, and do you expect from us the same sort of pettiness that would follow normal disputes? Indeed, merchant, my Kingdom is on fire. But that is what happens when dragons fight – the kingdom burns."
