"Because I'm tired, Elara. I've ruled this empire for forty-three years. I've maintained stability, prevented civil war, kept the noble families from tearing everything apart. But I've done it without purpose, without hope, just... existing. When I die, I want to know that whoever takes this throne might actually care about something beyond their own power."
He looked at her directly. "You care about efficiency. About systems that work. About people being treated fairly—even if your motivation is practical rather than emotional. That's close enough to purpose for me. So yes, I'll help you. Quietly. Strategically. And if you win, maybe this empire will finally become something worth ruling."
Elara sat with the document in her hands, mind racing.
