(Romulus POV)
The council chamber fell silent the moment I entered.
Not the hurried silence of fear, nor the strained quiet of false respect—but the heavy, instinctive stillness of men who understood that what followed would be irreversible.
Stone columns rose high above us, carved with the histories of emperors long dead. Their faces watched from relief and shadow, unmoved witnesses to judgment and blood. I walked past them without pause, my steps measured, unhurried. Every councilor stood as one.
I did not acknowledge them.
I took my seat.
Only then did I lift my gaze.
I saw everything.
The men who would not meet my eyes. The ones who watched too carefully, already calculating the distance between themselves and the name that would soon be condemned. A few held their composure well—veterans of court politics who understood that survival lay in restraint.
Others betrayed themselves.
