The throne room of Daiyu's Imperial Palace gleamed like lacquered gold beneath morning light. Sunlight filtered through red-paneled windows, casting long shadows across polished wood and the dragon-carved dais. Ministers stood at attention in tightly ordered rows, their hands tucked into their sleeves, their faces carefully blank. Every breath was calculated. Every silence, deliberate.
Whether they liked each other or not, they only had one common goal when the Emperor sat upon his throne. And that was to make it out of the hall alive.
Wearing silks embroidered with phoenix and fire, the Emperor lounged like a lion at rest, bored yet watchful. A single ring, black jade set with gold, adorned his right hand, but he didn't wear any other jewelry. His gaze was sharp, not dulled by age, and it was clear that he was becoming impatient.
