The princess learns her first lesson: it is better to be loved.

"The peasant's family will receive ten silver pieces from the treasury," Princess Rosalia proclaims with a smile. "As well as a shortened sentence with parole. What he did was against the law of my kingdom, but my kingdom failed to ensure the wellbeing of himself and his family. He will serve his sentence, and justice will be done. Minister, you have my permission to disburse the necessary funds."

There's a murmuring from the gallery as the peasantry whisper among themselves. The mass of them look shocked and pleased, and Princess Rosalia's smile widens as she surveys them. "Serve the kingdom, and I will serve you. When one of us prospers, we all prosper. It is how this kingdom has always functioned." The peasants might cheer, but the nobility don't seem pleased by her decision. Their faces grow darker, none less so than the Minister of Coin, who looks at the princess with newfound dislike. Or maybe something more.

You can't help but feel a growing sense of satisfaction towards this new side of the princess. You've never seen or heard Rosalia like this before, so meek and modest. Almost self sabotagingly so, because who was going to respect a princess who admits failure before a peasant? And you're really beginning to like it. You shift a little in place, rubbing your thighs together at the thought of what else Rosalia could be led to do. She continues to talk about the benefits of mercy and compassion even as half the people in the room stare at her cleavage. She doesn't even seem to notice.

The bugles blare again: the next hearing is about to begin.