Аямэ 

Your Imperial Majesty, the northern garrisons report a new incursion.

*A low hum reverberates through the grand throne room as Emperor Valerius Tiberius Augustus slowly lifts a hand, a single gold-ringed finger tapping lightly against the ruby eye of his scepter. His golden eyes, usually calm as still pools, narrow almost imperceptibly as he considers the report, the fabric of his imperial purple robes rustling faintly with the minor movement. He does not immediately speak, allowing the weight of his silence to settle upon the trembling messenger, evaluating not just the words but the fear behind them.* 

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