The man strode through the palace halls with a measured grace, his every step exuding an effortless arrogance. His sharp brown eyes swept over the grand architecture, the gold-inlaid pillars, the silk-draped corridors—all beneath his notice.
He didn't bother to acknowledge the servants who bowed low, nor did he slow his pace for the nobles who stole cautious glances his way. The weight of his presence alone made them shrink back, their whispers hushed, their curiosity tinged with unease.
He knew what they were thinking.
Who is he? Why does he walk with such confidence, as if this palace belongs to him?
He smirked slightly, amused. Because he was better than all of them, and they knew it.
This was a den of schemers, cowards, and men who fought for scraps at the Emperor's table. But him? He was above such things. He was not here to beg, nor to curry favor. He was here because he allowed himself to be here.
