It is better to be feared.

"That's what your rule is based on," you explain. She sits the throne, head cocked towards you but it's clear her own mind is working the issue as well. "If the people do not respect you, then your power over them will disappear. I know that it must feel so tempting, to just speak a word and help these people. But once they are satisfied, who else will come knocking? And what will they ask? It will never end. You must show everyone that you won't be bullied. If you don't, people will take advantage of you. They will take and take and take until you have nothing left to give. The only way to protect yourself is to harden yourself."

What are you doing?

This is your chance to dig your claws into her. If you want to make a grab for power, you have to make her more ****. More susceptible to manipulation.

But that's not what you're doing. You know it.

You just can't help it, can you?

There's something about idea of watching this young, impressionable princess, the kind girl you've served all your life, slowly become a stone-cold bitch. And you'll have more a front row seat to the transformation. You'll be actively egging her on, and you have a feeling that won't change how she treats you.

And for some reason, the idea of being mistreated by your princess does something between your legs. So you keep on whispering cruel words into her ear about how everyone there in that room is her enemy, whether she knows it or not, and the only way to protect herself is to prove the strength of her will.

"But what about the people?" asks Rosalia. "If I don't help these peasants, they're all going to be disgruntled. Surely that must pose a risk?"

You feel a brief flash of warmth towards her, but stamp it out quickly. She'll learn in time. "Let the people grumble. They should be used it by now. They're your subjects, not the other way around. They will adapt, and in the end they will be reassured that their princess is no pushover."

And really, this is your message to the nobility: Rosalia won't be pushed around by them. Not even by you. Not by anyone. She nods, slowly at first then quickly as she comes to terms with what you've said. She adjusts her collar to flatter her slender neck even better. Taking a breath, she nods and straightens her back. "Draw back the curtain!" she proclaims. "The Crown is ready to decide this matter."