Princess Galaxy could go hang for all he cared. So could her black marshal who constantly bothered him and Mr. Smiles, that criminal bastard in Fillydelphia. The dirty foreigner had no right digging his hooves into his merchant guilds. Ohhh and the merchants, they would be his, his to command, his to protect and all their gold would go to him… or else. And the Grey Coast in the far north, those usurers, he would worm his way into that sweet little pie and grab a slice for him, the wealth of nations flowing through his hooves, the fortunes of Houses, cities and kingdoms hanging by his whims! It was almost too good to believe.