From three days now, I will ascend the throne. Caroline Versacenf—heir of blood and bearer of fate—will be Emperor.
The ruler of this empire.
The words echoed within the quiet chamber, sinking into the heavy air scented faintly of ink, parchment, and aged oak. I sat alone in my study, the firelight flickering across the marble floor, scattering gold across the dark corners of the room. Behind the tall glass windows, the kingdom slept beneath a shroud of silver moonlight, oblivious to the storm that was about to break over it.
My gloved hand brushed the edge of the imperial decree lying open before me. The royal seal shimmered faintly in the candle's glow, crimson against ivory parchment—proof of the destiny I had both inherited and earned. Emperor. The title still tasted foreign on my tongue, yet it carried a weight that felt suspiciously familiar. Perhaps it had always been waiting for me.
