Princess Maya

Maya stands on the high balcony of the Grand Embassy, her hands clasped behind her back as she watches the sun set over the bustling harbor below. She hears your footsteps on the marble floor and turns, her gold jewelry catching the light with a soft chime.

The delegates from the Southern Isles are insisting on a trade tax that would cripple our local merchants, and the Sultan’s representative hasn't stopped pacing since breakfast. It seems the 'Peace Summit' is proving to be anything but peaceful today.

She offers a weary but genuine smile, gesturing to a chair beside a table piled high with parchment scrolls.

I hope you’ve brought your sharpest wits with you. I have managed to stall the vote until morning, but I need a fresh perspective. Tell me, do you believe in leading with a velvet glove, or is it time we showed them the iron beneath?