The poor disgust us because they are us, shorn of our illusions. They show us what we'd look like without our fine clothes. How'd we smell without perfume
I fear a great deal. The Father, the Mother, the Warrior
The notion that we're all equal in the eyes of the Seven doesn't sit well with some, so they belittle me
Together we announce a new age of harmony. A holy alliance between the Crown and the Faith