The throne room was silent when Ludwig was brought before the crown.
It was not the silence of ceremony. Not the polished quiet of nobles waiting to hear themselves breathe near power. The last time Ludwig had stood before the Emperor, the court had been full of jeweled snakes, smiling officials, armored guards, and people willing to praise victory so long as it did not cost them anything. This time, there were no nobles lined along the hall. No audience gathered to admire imperial mercy. No parasites in silk waiting to twist the scene into gossip.
Only the throne.
Only the Emperor.
Only the Queen seated beside him, her face composed but her eyes sharp with pity and anger. The pity was for Ludwig. The anger was not.
