I sat on the edge of the bed in soft silk night clothes, staring out at the moon hanging over the empire like a silver coin tossed into a black sea.
The room was quiet except for the faint rustle of curtains and the slow, distant hum of the palace below, and that silence made my thoughts louder than ever.
This world still felt unreal to me, so unlike the one I had known before—when I was a physics professor measuring forces, equations, and cause and effect with certainty.
Now I was the emperor of an empire I barely understood, a body and a life that had been forced into place around me, and too often I felt less like a ruler and more like something people could bend, use, and keep.
"Why am I so weak?" I murmured to the empty room. "Why does everyone keep pushing me exactly where they want?"
