Asag shifted in his cushioned seat, the last to take his place at the council table.
One month had passed since Yarzat's banners were planted in Oizen's soil, and it had taken until the seventh birthday of the heir for the prince's eldest to call the first diet since victory.
A month of papers, seals, and wrangling. It had been quite tiring for Alpheo, who was the main victim of the paperwork.
There were unfortunately, a lot of jobs to administer, like the carving of the conquered land into neat parcels for grateful lords, and also the weighing out of loot like a butcher at market.
Still, they were at least positive things, both of them:
Forty-two thousand silverii had been hauled into the capital in blood-stained chests , quite the fortune to any man, though as always, half was claimed by the crown.
He had, of course, also counted the other gains that came from the war, like the nine hundred hectares of new, actually worked , farmland under his writ.
