Roland placed the cloth-wrapped bundle on the drafting table, but he didn't open it immediately. It was a short, iron-legged table, its surface littered with pencil scratches and the faded rings of coffee cups that no one ever bothered to wipe away. It was blatantly obvious that someone in the Iron Empire spent far more time working at this table than sitting on the throne behind it.
He had played this game before, across much smaller tables and in front of far less terrifying opponents, and he knew the rules by heart. Don't rush. Let them stare at the bundle and draw their own conclusions first. A person who guesses the answer themselves is infinitely easier to persuade than one who is simply handed the truth.
"Your Majesty," he began smoothly, "may I ask one thing before I open this?"
"You are already asking," the Emperor retorted.
