The meeting with the Portuguese emissaries was finally over. Now, Emperor Gelawdewos called a private council, gathering his nobles to officially introduce Khisa and settle the matter once and for all.
For months, the Emperor had been quietly consolidating power—replacing minor nobles with loyal men, sniffing out dissent, uprooting corruption like weeds in his garden. But the roots ran deep. His own brother remained unchecked, a puppet master still pulling strings in the dark. Soon, those strings would be cut permanently.
In the imperial meeting hall, the tension was thick as smoke.
"Why would you refuse the deal?" one noble burst out. "With Portuguese support, this war could be over! All it takes is a few damn slaves."
"Your Majesty, please rethink your position," another added. "Yes, protecting civilians is noble, but Abyssinia must survive. Sacrificing a few to save many—this is leadership."
