"A speech? What's it about? He's not here to collect taxes, is he?" A wrinkled old man frowned, his voice tinged with worry.
"Who knows? But I heard they were sent by that Butcher Count. Can't be anything good." A middle-aged man next to him pursed his lips, his tone filled with distrust.
Taxes. That was the biggest thing on everyone's mind. A single tax hike could crush countless families.
Besides, Henry's reputation in the fiefdoms of these hostile great nobles was mixed, to say the least.
"Sigh... We can only take it one step at a time. All we can do now is leave it to fate," a woman holding a child sighed, her eyes filled with helplessness.
On the street, a troop of soldiers stood in formation, holding spears and shields, their eyes warily scanning the surroundings.
Claude led a team of orators, walking slowly in the middle of the formation.
