<span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;"><span style="color: #FF4000"><span style="font-size: 200%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="text-decoration: underline"><div style="text-align: center;">King Allistair</div></span></span></span></span></span><br/><br/>Allistair smirked.<span style="color: #FF4000"> "I will have you know, the only advisers I have are my general, my archmage, and my archivist. Small circle. Leads to less leaks m'lady." </span>He leaned back in his own chair and crossed his legs to make himself comfortable. Allistair wasn't like most kings in the sense that he preferred to handle business himself if at all possible. This left him busy and stretched sometimes, but he'd found it to be the most rewarding route. He had loyal subjects, happy subjects, and most importantly, a smoothly run kingdom in which he knew everything that was happening. Or so he thought.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF4000">"I don't wish for a confession of sins. I have no doubt of what you did. To deny it now would simply be foolish." </span>He said while resting his head on his left hand.<span style="color: #FF4000">"I wish to know why so that I may decide how to handle this situation." </span>He didn't like to see people struggling to the point of having to make a living by illegal means, and he would try to help however he could, but he also didn't spoon feed people who were brought before him. If he felt they needed help, he'd give it, but if they abused it, he wasn't as kind the second time around. His eyes tried to read her as he sat there. He was looking for any trace of fear or regret. Something that shouldn't be there. Whether he would find it or not was another story.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF4000">"Do you care to try again? I will be patient."</span>He informed her.<br/><br/><a href="//www.creativefreedomrpg.com/memberlist.php?mode=viewprofile&amp;u=111501">@Aria</a>