His ample form was draped in fine silks, and he clutched a goblet of wine in one hand. A handful of terrified slaves and maids stood by, ready to attend to his every whim. Havton's eyes were glazed with a mix of fear and intoxication, trying to drown out the sounds of preparation and war outside.
"More wine!" he bellowed, his voice slurred. A young maid, trembling, stepped forward to refill his goblet. Havton grabbed her wrist, his grip bruising her delicate skin. "You're lucky to be in my presence, girl. Remember that."