Byron
*There was an air of... Gloom in the keep. Madanach and the Silver Bloods were being held in a cell in the bottom of the keep. The Thalmor were still here, but likely not for long. They would either protest the Imperfect or keep their mouths shut.*
Justin
"How goes things, Jarl?" He asks, "I've got friends incoming who will help keep order during the transition." He says, "Can't help but feel something's on your mind, though."
Byron
"Just... Thinking of how things should go after the execution. The mine will have *Paid* Workers... More money can be granted to dwemer research... And I'm going to have the streets cleaned more often..."

*He pouted.*

"I almost felt bad for Madanach. We are... Similarly ambitious. I could've ended up becoming him if i hadn't left."
Justin
"Well it's a good thing you left, then." He says with a grin, "Doubt this Hold would be doing as well with a different Jarl."
Byron
"Then maybe them taking Markarth after the war was a good thing."

*He smirked.*

"The silver bloods pleaded... Tried bribes... Never admitted anything to the end. They thought they could run from responsibility."
Justin
"Guess I'll be working overtime with your guards, I can't imagine the Silver-Bloods are going to go quietly. I'm guessing they'll try to get them to turn against you."
Byron
"Then it roots out the Fools. The corrupt's masters will die, and they will crumble without the gold holding them up. You've done me a great service."

*He had a bottle of wine sitting by his throne.*

"Exclusive, Indoril. From the Stros M'Kai vineyard. I'm quite fond of her stock... Though im indifferent about her more... "Exclusive" Wines."
Justin
"I'm not a big wine drinker," He says, "I prefer mead. Or something strong like rum. Kind of you to ask, though."
Byron
"I suppose they do have good mead in Riften. Hm. Well... You're dismissed for now. I'll need you in the morning to assist with the Execution."
Justin
He salutes, "Yessir." He says, "I'll continue my work with the guard and keep an eye out for any possible trouble makers. If any Silver-Bloods show up I'll have their heads."
Byron
*And so, night would fall. The faint cries of the imprisoned could be heard. They were futile. The morning would bring a new city.*