"Very well. The first chest contains exactly one trillion Velts… Let's move on to the second one."
Octavia Moon wore a broad smile, clearly delighted. For hours now, she had been counting, bill by bill, the money packed inside one of the chests sent by the Tenth Empire.
It wasn't the astronomical sum that pleased her so much, but rather the expressions of anger and hatred slowly distorting the faces of the imperial envoys. She savored every second of their silent humiliation.
For these proud men—subjects of the mighty Tenth Empire—having to prove they hadn't stolen from the wretched Thirteenth was nothing short of an insult.
Their eyes betrayed their growing fury, their barely contained disgust. But despite the muffled murmurs, the swallowed protests, and the bitter insults held back, none dared to speak. Not as long as Boris Zand, their official representative, remained seated in silence, expressionless.
