Elara's pov
The meeting had ended an hour ago and I was still replaying it in my head.
The intel on The Voice had been worse than expected, more organized, more embedded, reaching further into the districts than any of us had wanted to admit. Henrik's report kept coming back to me. Hundreds of people. Maybe more. They're angry about feeling powerless. The words echoed in my mind, making it hard to focus on anything else.
And my response, the grain distribution, the relief provisions, appearing in person among the people, had been met with exactly the resistance I'd anticipated. Too risky. Too exposed. Too much for a queen to do herself. Lord Petrov had been the loudest, but he wasn't alone. Half the council had looked at me like I'd suggested handing them the crown myself.
I'd overruled them all.
