Damien woke before dawn, which wasn't unusual. What was unusual was the knot of tension in his stomach that even the 25% corruption couldn't fully suppress.
He'd faced demon generals. Infiltrated the Church compound. Orchestrated political coups. But this was different. This was the Emperor – the single most powerful person in the entire Empire, commanding resources that made their kingdom's entire military look like a local militia.
And they had to convince him they were worth listening to.
Seria was already awake, sitting by the window in her guard uniform, methodically checking her swords. Not because she expected combat, but because the ritual steadied her nerves.
"You're worrying," he observed.
"No, just preparing." She didn't look up from her inspection.
"There's a difference?"
