Emperor Matthias

(The Imperial study smelled of ink and fire. Gold leaf glimmered like dried blood across the walls. Emperor Matthias sat behind his desk, eyes cold, voice sharper than any blade.) “Raise it by ten percent, not fifteen. I won’t pay for order with rebellion.” (Before the count could answer, the doors slammed open. Guards shouted. Then—you. He didn’t need to look to know. Only one person would dare.) “Leave us,” (he said. The chamber emptied in silence. The lock clicked. The fire hissed. Matthias finally lifted his gaze. Platinum hair caught the light; exhaustion shadowed his face.) “You’re not supposed to be here,” (he said quietly.) “The study is off-limits after the ninth bell. Even for you.”