Precedent
King Leonard sat in his chambers, reviewing paperwork, the one resource the country never seemed to run out of. Many people thought that being a king meant spending all of his time on the throne, but most of it was spent at a desk. They thought that a king's work was done with a sword or a scepter, but instead, it was just a quill and a bottle of ink. They thought that all guests bowed their heads and spoke with quiet reverence, but the guest that arrived spoke with his nose up and an entitled gleam in his eye. He was an old priest, dressed in fancier robes than most clergy members and with numerous jeweled rings.
"Good day, Your Majesty."
"Cardinal Phelps, what brings you before me today?" the king asked dryly. The six cardinals were the highest authorities in the Uther's church, each one representing one of the gods.
"I'm here to warn you of an enemy we share, Your Majesty."
"And what enemy might that be?"
"You are familiar with Madam Cyrilo, yes?"
"I wasn't aware that she was my enemy. What has she done to earn her such distinction?"
"She's sowing the seeds of discontent among the masses, spreading sinful, fabricated knowledge to the public, using a means of dispersal that we've never seen before."
"Knowledge such as?"
"Lewd texts, urging for ungodly fornication and the shedding of social responsibility for the sake of carnality."
"Sounds to me like she's a simple brothel-owner trying to stir up more business. Unless her courtesans are pleasuring men in the street, it's not worth making a fuss over."
"Your Majesty, this cannot be allowed to continue. This country is a well and you're letting poison seep in drop by drop."
"I'll take it under advisement."
The cardinal's words turned cold. "I do not come to you as an average citizen, adding another piece of paper for you to skim. I am here because a threat has arisen, a threat to the kingdom and the church, and I'm calling on you to fulfill your obligations."
"I do not adhere to demands from the clergy. I will not waste the time of even a single soldier for something so ridiculous."
Phelps sneered. "The church has backed your rule, your war, and your policies. We've helped you protect the lives and souls of Uther's citizens, both spiritually and financially. We expect you to do the same."
"You expect me to act on your whims like a loyal dog and silence those who disagree with you. The kingdom and its resources do not exist at your beck and call. You stand in MY castle, in MY city, in MY kingdom."
"They are yours only as long as the people choose to listen to you, but what happens when they listen to someone else instead? Someone who speaks on behalf of the gods? You can't possibly compare. Your castle, your city, your kingdom, and everything else you believe you own will slip through your fingers, and all it takes is for those with authority to point out your failings.
Your family has long-since lost its control over the Wassengel, and Seraph, your only son of any real strength is now just a powerless shell of his former self, so what actual authority does your bloodline still have? Why should the people bother listening to you?"
"I have earned the people's loyalty through a lifetime of service and leadership. Don't think you can subvert my rule."
"Perhaps that's what Madam Cyrilo is doing. Perhaps she's trying to sabotage your authority with her perverse texts. That's all the justification you need. Unless, of course, you want to lose the few allies you still have."
The cardinal then turned and walked out of the king's chambers as though he owned the place, unflinching in the certainty that he did.
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"You are being charged with the creation and distribution of contraband," said Marcus Berholm, placing the royal decree on Cyrilo's desk. "You must cease all works relating to literature, or you will be arrested and placed in the dungeon until further notice."
"This is ridiculous," Cyrilo fired back. "Since when is literature considered contraband?"
"Until now, it wasn't, but that's only because it was so hard to produce. A sudden large influx of any resource, be it gold, food, lumber, or books can have far-reaching political, societal, and economic consequences. The church has already filed complaints about those pamphlets of yours being distributed to the citizens."
"Please, Sir Berholm," said Sophia, standing beside Cyrilo in her study, "we're doing this to help and educate people."
"Though you claim to have good intentions, His Majesty and the church are concerned with how this may be used against the kingdom. We are not blind as to what is going on. You're using magic to create texts faster than can be done with human labor, but what if it was used to spread disinformation or national secrets? What if it was used to create weapons? If this fell into the wrong hands, it could become a catastrophic tool. You already have custody of the bard, and we cannot allow a private citizen to wield this much power without regulation."
"If King Leonard wants this power regulated for the safety of the country, then that should be settled with a discussion. Since I apparently wield so much terrifying power, then surely he can take the time to speak with me face-to-face."
"Though you have been granted an audience with the king in the past, this is a separate matter."
"Regardless, I'm sure that a mutually-beneficial arrangement can be established through proper negotiation."
Berholm exhaled through his large, boulder-like nose. "I too find this decision by the king concerning. As a knight and the Royal Adjudicator, I am bound by my orders to deliver this warning, but I agree that this issue should be settled with conversation. I will pass along your request for an audience to the king, but I cannot promise anything, and I suggest you do nothing to exacerbate the situation."
