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"Your majesty, famine and calamity abound in these lands."
"The gods must be angry." she assesses.
"Indeed they are your highness."
"What can be done to appease them? Do not not have our festivals and celebrations? Do they no longer accept our sacrifices?"
"It appears what we have to give them is no longer good enough. We have gone given more than required and of a higher quality too since the famine began. What little livestock we can spare for sacrifices are the highest bred in record."
She combed through ancient tomes for days. Many sleepless nights passed until she discovered a passage in an ancient grimoire.
"The gods will remind their subjects of who the true rulers are. To submit, the nation must give up what is most precious to it. The highest must become the lowest, and remain the highest."