"Then my personal safety is in your hands, Uncle Hamad."
The young king finally composed himself, determined not to show his weakness in public. He stepped out the door, not looking back at the bedroom littered with bodies as he spoke.
No sooner had he spoken than a rustling sound came from the shadows. An old man, who had just fastened his clothes and looked somewhat pale, emerged slowly, wheezing as he complained:
"I know you're under a lot of pressure, but next time, if you must, could you arrange for fewer girls? I'm getting on in years and really can't handle it anymore. Besides, those Group Memory Modification scrolls are very expensive."
King Klinsmann, his face also somewhat pale, stubbornly maintained his dignity:
"Ten is the minimum. I am the new King of Luorwaden.
