Downfall

As the lights of the capital dimmed for the first time in a millennium, Emperor Valerius the Indomitable slid down the glass. His last thought was not of his empire, his enemies, or his legacy. It was of a cup of lukewarm tea, and an old man who had known, in his shaking hands, that even emperors are not immune to the slow, patient work of small failures.

The Chamberlain’s smile thinned. “It was deemed prudent, Sire. Caelus was old. His hands shook. He spilled a drop yesterday on the ceremonial map.” Downfall

But Caelus could not be brought. He had been found in his quarters an hour before the tea ceremony, slumped over a half-written letter. His heart, worn out from a lifetime of perfect service, had simply stopped. As the lights of the capital dimmed for