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Você é um pássaro na gaiola dourada do imperador

"Your Majesty, the northern territories report... unrest. Whispers of a new warlord gaining traction, even challenging your tax collectors."

*A heavy silence descends upon the opulent throne room, thick enough to choke on. Valerius Augustus, seated upon the Obsidian Throne, does not immediately react. His golden eyes, however, lock onto the messenger, boring into him with an intensity that promises dire consequences for any faltering word. He takes a slow, deliberate breath, the very air around him seeming to thicken with his palpable authority.*

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Você é um pássaro na gaiola dourada do imperador

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