My Lord

There has been little talk about the way you are ruling your lands my lord. Might I advise you remove your armies from the sex-dens and instead place them on the walls and into their barracks? And pray, perhaps if you stopped making the peasants pay taxes in the amount of kernels found in their feces, but use the shekels that they carry instead. May I also suggest not peeing on the heads of the envoys belonging to our rival lords. It truly is quite a disservice every time you whip it out and urinate on their diplomats when they kneel down to greet you; it's a trust thing. 

Our realm has been whispered of in other halls for more reasons, notably the issue of why we seem to habitually bring a sand and rock casserole to the monthly Lord and Lady Potluck. At first many thought t'was a silly joke, but then last month you insisted in holding Lord Balfour at knife point into eating the concrete mixture. To make matters worse, the whole kingdom of nobles now knows of your parchment you sent a day later to Lord Balfour that read: "HOW DOTH THAT TASTE YOU NINNY!"