"So many people are vying for the title."
The Embassy's iconic decagon table was occupied. Eight pairs of eyes studied each other person. One pair sat closed. The seat nearest to the door remained empty. As it had been for months.
The man who sat facing the Tyrant's seat spoke up again. "We may have made an error in judgment. We cannot sit in a perpetual standstill while our countries deteriorate around us."
"With all due respect, Mr. Speaker." another voice interrupted, simultaneously muffled and drawling, "You hold no say in this matter. We have been through this a dozen times now and we've already come to a voted decision." The voice paused and the woman lifted her head off the table, opening her eyes. She yawned. "Besides," she continued, "I have a feeling that the seat will be filled before we have to take drastic measures." She grinned at the Speaker who was looking disapproving, "as you said, many people want the title."
If Makoplos made up the heart of Carth, its capital city of Manae was the heart of hearts. A relatively small capital, it was known for its architecture that were often covered in artistic symbols of many of the ancient cultures that used to exist on Carth. Before, Manae used to be a simple tourist spot for many peoples of the other nations. For the past few months though, the city was booked to overcapacity.
Rodyn loved it though. His tavern hadn't had so much business in years. Not only was money flowing, but there was always gossip to keep even the most starved information broker fed for weeks. Ah, it's a good time to be alive, he thought as he fished a few bronze coins out of the bottom of a mug.