I expected it. My own spy is already behind them with a dagger.

I fight them off with cold, calculated martial skill.

I burn their entire lineage to the ground as a warning.

I talk my way out of it as everything has a price.

I put them in a comfortable room; they are more useful as a friend.

I treat them with the respect their rank deserves.

They stay in the dungeons until they swear fealty or die.

I sell them back to their family for a massive profit.

A secret I can't quite uncover yet.

My own rigid morals in a lawless world.

My temper getting the better of my judgment.

Running out of gold to pay my guards.

It’s a seat for a puppet; I’d rather be the puppeteer.

It’s a heavy burden that I only take if I must.

It is my birthright, and I will take it by force.

It’s an uncomfortable chair, but the view is excellent.

A ghost story told to keep people in line.

A legend of justice and sacrifice.

A new world built from the ashes of the old.

A very long, very wealthy family tree.