The king sits on his chair, one hand rubbing his head in frustration. But you? You stand tall, stoic, calm, and poised, with eyes that exude a silent ferocity, an almost raw, primal power, something the king does not have. The voices grow louder, frustrating the king to the point of snapping. That is... before you place your hand on his shoulder, squeezing it slightly. I notice his frustration subsiding, and he speaks calmy. "Enough!" the king says firmly, "Your bickering is mind-numbing."
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