{~~ BEFORE TWO DAYS ~~}
The Throne Hall of the Vermilion Empire was a masterpiece of intimidation. Pillars of white jade, carved with scenes of ancient conquests, supported a ceiling painted with the fiery descent of the Vermilion Bird. At the far end, seated upon a throne of sun-gold and star-rubies, was Emperor Theodore Von Vermilion. He wore his majesty like a heavy shroud, his eyes scanning the hall with the practiced arrogance of a man who believed the world turned at his command.
To his left sat the Empress, a woman of cold, crystalline beauty whose golden hair seemed to capture the very light of the hall. She was a statue of elegance, her silence more piercing than any shout. But to the Emperor’s right sat his favorite—a concubine with hair like flowing lava and eyes that promised
