Rage

At the long, ornate dining table, the silence was suffocating. Candlelight flickered weakly, casting shadows across the faces of the gathered nobles, each staring intently at the menus laid before them. Their expressions were tense, each face wearing a mixture of disbelief and shock. Eyes darted between the lavish banquet on the table and the lies they had been told for months.

Who was it that had claimed the small kingdom of Loton was suffering from famine?

Outside these grand palace walls, the common people were gaunt, their hollowed eyes and skeletal frames telling a story of hunger and desperation. The barren fields were proof of the suffering, with no crops growing and no livestock left to graze.

But the sight before them — the feast, enough to feed hundreds, possibly even a thousand — contradicted everything. The table overflowed with golden-roasted meats, exotic fruits, and platters of delicacies from far-off lands, all arranged like a masterpiece, mocking the starving kingdom.