The Emperor's chambers were hushed, heavy with the scent of medicinal herbs and the weight of impending loss. Julian had been summoned in the early hours before dawn, the urgent knocking of Captain Laurent breaking through his fitful sleep.

  "Your Highness," Laurent had whispered, his face grim. "The Imperial Physician says it won't be long now."

  Julian found his father surrounded by the expected figures—the Imperial Physician looking defeated, the Empress with perfect composure despite the hour, various high officials maintaining their vigil, and Augustus, standing at the bedside with an expression of grave concern that didn't quite reach his eyes.

  "Father," Julian murmured, approaching the bed. The Emperor's once-powerful frame seemed diminished against the pillows, his breathing bored, skin bearing the yellowish tinge that had spread gradually over the past three days.

  The Emperor's eyes flickered open at Julian's voice. His hand trembled as he reached for his youngest son.

  "Julian," he whispered, his voice so faint that Julian had to lean close to hear. "Remember... everything I taught you. Trust... your instincts."

  "I will, Father," Julian promised, gripping the frail hand.

  Augustus moved closer. "Father needs rest, brother. The physician advised against excitement."

  Julian ignored him, keeping his focus on their father. "I'm here. I won't leave."

  The Emperor's gaze shifted between his two sons, a lifetime of wisdom and regret in his fading eyes. With what seemed to be tremendous effort, he raised his other hand, gesturing weakly.

  "Lord Chancellor," he called, his voice suddenly stronger.

  The elderly Lord Chancellor Voss stepped forward from the shadows where he had been standing in silent vigil. "Your Majesty?"

  "The document... from my private cabinet. Bring it."

  Augustus frowned. "Father, whatever state business remains can surely wait until—"

  "Now," the Emperor insisted with a fsh of his former authority.

  The Chancellor hesitated, gncing between the Emperor and Augustus. Then, with a deep bow, he turned and left the chamber. Augustus's face darkened as he watched him go.

  The next half hour passed in tense silence, broken only by the Emperor's bored breathing and the Empress's quiet prayers. When the Chancellor returned, he carried a sealed document bearing the Imperial crest.

  "Your Majesty," he said, approaching the bed. "The document you requested."

  The Emperor nodded weakly. "Read it. To all present."

  Augustus stepped forward, hand outstretched. "Allow me, Chancellor."

  "No," the Emperor said firmly. "The Chancellor will read it."

  The room fell completely silent as Lord Chancellor Voss broke the seal and unfolded the parchment. He cleared his throat and began:

  "I, Valerian V, Emperor of the Realm, being of sound mind, hereby decre my final wishes regarding succession and governance. While tradition dictates that the Crown Prince assume immediate authority upon my passing, recent observations have led me to implement a period of shared governance."

  Augustus's face froze as the Chancellor continued reading.

  "For a period of one year following my death, a Regency Council shall govern, comprising Crown Prince Augustus, Prince Julian, the Lord Chancellor, the Master of Arms, and the Imperial Treasurer. All decisions affecting the Empire must be approved by majority vote of this council."

  The Emperor's eyes remained fixed on Augustus, who had gone completely still, his expression unreadable.

  "After this year of transition, Crown Prince Augustus shall ascend to the throne, provided the council finds no cause to alter the succession. This document supersedes all previous decrations and bears my seal and signature, witnessed by the High Priestess and Lord Chancellor on this date."

  The Chancellor finished reading and looked up, his expression carefully neutral despite the extraordinary document he had just revealed.

  Augustus recovered first. "Father, this is most... unusual. The Empire needs decisive leadership after your passing, not a committee that will paralyze governance."

  "The Empire," the Emperor replied, each word clearly costing him effort, "needs wisdom more than haste, my son."

  Julian remained silent, understanding the magnitude of what his father had done. This wasn't just a dey of Augustus's power—it was a public decration of doubt in his readiness to rule, and a final protection for Julian himself.

  Augustus turned to the officials gathered in the room. "My father's concern for the Empire's stability is admirable, but his illness has perhaps clouded his usual foresight. A divided leadership during transition would invite our enemies to test our resolve."

  The Emperor's breathing had grown more bored, but his eyes remained alert, watching this first power struggle between his sons.

  Julian finally spoke, his voice calm and respectful. "Our father's wisdom has guided this Empire for forty years. His final decree deserves our honor and obedience, brother."

  The Emperor smiled faintly, then winced as pain visibly coursed through him. The Imperial Physician moved forward with concern.

  "Your Majesty must rest now. All this excitement—"

  "There will be... time enough for rest... soon," the Emperor managed. His gaze swept the room one final time, lingering on Julian. "Remember," he whispered.

  The word hung in the air for a moment. Then, as if it had been his final task, Emperor Valerian V exhaled softly and did not breathe again.

  The Imperial Physician stepped forward, checking for signs of life before shaking his head solemnly. "His Imperial Majesty has departed."

  The Empress let out a single, dignified sob before composing herself. Officials bowed their heads. Julian felt a hollow opening inside him—not just grief for his father, but the sudden, terrifying awareness of what was to come.

  Augustus straightened, his moment of shock passing into resolution. He turned to the Lord Chamberin. "Sound the bells. The Emperor is dead." Then, with perfect timing: "Long live the Empire."

  Deliberately, Julian noted, not "long live the Emperor"—a subtle but significant omission in the traditional procmation.

  As the Chamberin left to order the death knell, Augustus looked directly at Julian, then at the document still in the Chancellor's hands. Something cold and calcuting passed behind his eyes.

  "A time of mourning befits our father's great legacy," Augustus announced to the room. "The matter of governance can be addressed after proper ceremonies honor his memory."

  Transtion, Julian thought: Time to neutralize this inconvenient document.

  As officials began filing out to spread the news and begin funeral preparations, Augustus pced a brotherly hand on Julian's shoulder, his grip just tight enough to convey warning rather than comfort.

  "We should speak privately, brother. Family must present a united front in times of transition."

  Julian nodded, maintaining his composure. "Of course. After I have informed my wife of our father's passing."

  Augustus's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly before he nodded and released Julian. "The family will gather in the great hall at noon to receive condolences. Do not be te."

  As Julian left the Imperial chambers, he spotted Natalie waiting discreetly in an alcove down the corridor. Her face registered immediate understanding as she saw his expression.

  "The Emperor?" she asked softly.

  "Has left us," Julian confirmed, his voice steady despite his inner turmoil. "And Augustus has already begun maneuvering."

  "What happened?"

  "My father delivered one final surprise," Julian murmured, gncing around to ensure they weren't overheard. "A regency council instead of immediate succession. Augustus is... displeased."

  "We need to secure your position quickly," Natalie said. "Lady Sophia—"

  "Is already implementing contingencies," Julian finished. "But Augustus controls the pace and most of the Imperial Guard. We must move carefully."

  As the death bells began to toll across the pace grounds, Julian felt the weight of his father's final gift—time. But looking at Augustus's guards already taking up strategic positions throughout the corridors, he wondered if it would be enough.