The Emperor's summons came early – before dawn, delivered by an apologetic servant who looked like he'd rather be asleep.
"His Majesty requests your presence for a private consultation. Immediately, Lord Valcrest."
Damien dressed quickly, leaving Seria and Elara still sleeping peacefully. Whatever it was the Emperor wanted at this hour, it had to be urgent enough to bypass normal protocol.
That thought wasn't reassuring.
The palace was different in pre-dawn darkness. Fewer servants, minimal guard presence, the grand corridors feeling almost intimate in the quiet. Damien was led not to the war room or throne room, but to a private study in the Emperor's personal quarters.
Emperor Valdris was alone, sitting at a desk covered in reports and maps. He looked tired – the kind of exhaustion that came from too many sleepless nights and impossible decisions.
"Lord Valcrest. Thank you for coming." The Emperor gestured to a chair. "I apologize for the hour, but this couldn't wait."
