CHAPTER 33-New Tax Law

***Kyrous’s POV***

The air in the throne room was heavy with the murmurs of disgruntled men, their faces a mix of frustration and fear. Before me stood an older man, hunched with age, his voice trembling as he spoke.

“Your Highness, your tax collectors are doing more harm than good to our people. We were paying a little over ten percent of our total harvest to your late father. But now, we have to remit over sixty percent! That is barbaric! A terrible way to exploit your own people. We work so hard on our farmlands, our wine presses, and yet we see so little. Our children are starving while we toil endlessly!” The farmer’s voice cracked with emotion, but I barely registered his words. His rant barely touched the surface of the many thoughts swirling in my mind.

I leaned back in my throne, staring blankly at the man as his words faded into the background. There were too many things on my mind to care about the complaints of a farmer. The most pressing issue at hand, the one that occupied my thoughts endlessly, was securing a successor—an heir. I needed one desperately. But this old man, standing before me with his desperate pleas, only irritated me further.

I was the King now. The crown was mine, but it was a burden. I had a kingdom to rule, and yet, all I could think about was finding someone to carry my legacy when I was gone. The weight of my responsibility, coupled with the pressures of the throne, had become unbearable.

“I provided you all with farm supplies so you could make your harvest bountiful. You all cried to me when your farmlands weren’t producing enough, and I acted swiftly by giving you aid in the form of fertilizers,” I said, my voice flat, uninterested. “What more do you ask of me?” The words sounded hollow even to my own ears, and I knew they wouldn’t satisfy him. But it didn’t matter; I wasn’t in the mood to entertain the grievances of a labor union leader.

The tax increase clearly weighed heavily on them, but I wasn’t concerned. To me, I was being generous. I could’ve taken more than sixty percent, but I hadn’t. The fact that they still complained about it was beyond me. After all, I was the one who ensured their lands stayed fertile, who kept their farms running, and yet here they were, ungrateful.

I watched them from the comfort of my throne, a glass of whiskey in hand, my eyes flicking between their faces as they spoke. Each word they uttered felt like a reminder of how little I cared.

“What are you all even saying?” I barked, finally losing the small amount of patience I had left. The anger that had been building within me for so long now burst out in a flood of words. “You’re all a bunch of ungrateful old men! I gave you all free farmlands in Astoria. You didn’t pay a single coin for it! I supported you with aids to grow healthy produce, and now you complain about just sixty percent?!” My voice echoed throughout the room, the power of my words sending a shiver down their spines. The farmer who had been speaking dropped to his knees along with the others, their heads bowed in fear. I could see the fear in their eyes, and it only served to feed my anger further.

“We do not mean to upset you, my Lord,” one of them spoke, his voice shaking. They all cowered before me, clearly terrified of what I might do next. I was enjoying the show.

“You are all ungrateful!” I shouted, my voice rising even more. “And if you don’t understand that, I’ll take back all the farmlands I gave you! Let’s see how you survive then!” The words hung in the air like a thunderclap, and immediately, the old men began to beg.

“No, my King! Please, do not take the land from us!” they pleaded, their voices desperate. It was an image of humiliation that gave me twisted pleasure.

“Rise,” I ordered coldly, not caring that their pleas were nothing more than hollow words. “You may rise!” I ordered, not intending to reduce my tax rate. “I am nothing like my father—he’s dead and gone! Did he ever give you land in Astoria? No, he didn’t. I did that. And yet, here you are, complaining instead of bowing and thanking me for the opportunity to earn!”

“We are sorry, Your Highness. We will continue paying sixty percent, please, do not take the farmland away from us!” One of the men pleaded. I wasn’t moved. I’d seen tears every day of my life, and they meant nothing to me. It was supposed to make me feel guilty, but instead, I enjoyed the show.

“You old men are lazy!” I shouted, my voice rising with contempt. “You leave the farm before sunset, then go home to your wives and children, while I sit on this throne, trying to keep Drakonia in check. And you expect to eat the fat of your labor? Your harvest isn’t even bountiful enough! I think I’ll withdraw my special aid for machines and fertilizers. You’ll have to work with your bare hands then—maybe you’ll understand the importance of my assistance. Then you won’t be here begging me to reduce the tax!”

“Ahhh! We’ll be doomed if you do that, my king!” They cried out in panic, and I smiled faintly, taking pleasure in their fear.

“Leave my presence before I change my mind!” They scrambled to exit like frightened children. As they fled, I caught sight of Lucinda standing across the room. Her disapproval was clear.

I stood up from the throne and walked to the room where she was pacing, clearly agitated.

“Really?” she barked, her voice laced with venom.

“What do you mean? If you have something to say, say it without all this drama.”

“Why would you increase the tax to sixty percent when you know those old men can’t meet it? They’re over sixty years old! How do you expect them to break their backs for you? You don’t even need the money they pay! Why are you being so unnecessarily cruel to your subjects?” Her voice was sharp, firm. I could feel the bitterness in her words, but there was nothing she could say to convince me otherwise.

“Those men are lazy! All they do is make children they can’t take care of. They should thank me for pushing them to be productive “What if I increased the tax to ninety percent?” I challenged, my tone cold and defiant.

“Then that would be wickedness! Do you even have a conscience?” Lucinda shot back, her voice trembling with disbelief.

“Enough!” I barked, my voice sharp. It startled Lucinda, and I saw her body flinch involuntarily. She was shocked by how harshly I had spoken to her.

“Do you ever support me in anything I do?” I demanded, my eyes burning with rage.

“You’ve never done anything I approve of!” she retorted, her voice firm. “You expect me to support you when everything you do causes pain to the people? They’re talking behind your back. I’m sorry, but I cannot stand by you in this.”

“Fine!” I snapped, the words bitter on my tongue. “Then I’ll find another wife. I’m sure she’ll support me in everything I do.”

Lucinda’s eyes were red with unshed tears, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I walked past her, deliberately brushing my shoulder against hers as I headed for the bathroom. I heard her quiet sobs behind me, but I didn’t look back.