When he was named emperor, he imagined the crowds, the palaces, the beautiful life to which he would now be elevated.
He had to imagine it, because the heavy golden crown came down past his forehead and coved his eyes.
“You lead the empire with your clarity of vision, your grace. You mustn’t be distracted,” his attendants admonished.
They led him through his palace, and he heard his footfalls echo through marble hallways. They read him his edicts, and they told him where to sign.
They told him he was doing an outstanding job, and he imagined it was true.
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