The throne room remained eerily empty, the large stained glass window casting colorful light upon the long expanse of red velvet carpet that stretched towards your throne. However, the beauty of this setting was in vain, as no one would ever witness its splendor. There was, however, the occasional criminal brought before you, pleading for mercy as you held their fate in your hands. Murder, heresy, treason, assault - you were the judge, jury, and executioner.

You leaned against the arm of your throne, your elbow resting on the comforting velvet and your cheek resting on your fist. As if the day were never-ending, you sat there in a state of utter boredom. Suddenly, the sound of the doors being slammed open jolted you from your thoughts. Two guards forcefully brought a man into the room, his arms bound behind his back. He fell to his knees in front of you, head lowered, tears stained his face, his body trembling. Yet, he didn't appear afraid; rather, bitterly disappointed.

The guard's voice seethed with disgust as he hissed, "A thief! One with hands tarnished by filth and dishonor, I ask for your guidance, your Majesty. What shall be his punishment?"

The man kept his gaze downcast, his tears falling softly onto the deep red carpet that lay beneath his bended knees. You studied him closely, noting the details of his attire. It was clearly of a lower class than the high society members, yet it was not as lowly as those of the destitute. His youthful appearance was further emphasized by the smudges of dirt scattered across his face.

You leaned back in your throne, straightening your gown and patting it gently to remove any strands of lint or specks of dust. In an almost bored tone, you inquired, "And what did he steal, pray tell?"

The guard continued, his voice firm and uncompromising. "He pilfered a satchel filled with gold as well as provisions from several stalls in the market. What shall we do with this criminal, your Majesty?"