Autumn brought a tangible shift to the atmosphere of the kingdom. The air grew colder, and the leaves on the trees turned from green to shades of yellow and brown before falling to the ground.
For Virouse, the change in season mirrored the decline of his influence. He sat in his spacious office within his residence in Rhovan, staring at a stack of reports. His fingers gripped the edge of his desk so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
Outside his window, he could hear the distant sounds of shouting. Again, who knows how many times they had done this.
The people of Rhovan, who once looked to him for leadership, were now standing in the streets holding signs and demanding his removal. They no longer believed his promises.
He had tried to implement new taxes to fund his private guard, but the people refused to pay. When he sent men to collect them by force, the people fought back with sticks and stones.
