"Mm-hmm." The sound escaped Pyris's lips like a predator's satisfied purr, his expression maintaining that mask of polite interest while his mind carved through layers of imperial deception with surgical precision.
So, it was like that.
The pieces of a vast, intricate puzzle crystallized before him—each fragment of information Mia had whispered in shadowed alcoves, every rumor that had drifted through the academy's halls, all the carefully orchestrated political theater he'd witnessed. It painted a picture of imperial ruthlessness that would have impressed even the most calculating of dragons.
The Human Emperor possessed a sprawling brood of offspring, much like Dracula's legendary vampire progeny, but unlike the ancient bloodsucker who viewed each child as a potential successor, this mortal sovereign wielded his children like chess pieces—valuable only insofar as they served the empire's ambitions.
