Keval moved with through the grand halls of the imperial palace of Romelia, his polished boots clicking against the intricately tiled floor. The corridor stretched endlessly before him, lined with towering columns of alabaster veined with gold and lit by the soft glow of chandeliers dripping with crystal. Murals of Romelia's past glories adorned the walls, depicting victories in battle, the crowning of emperors, and the divine blessings bestowed upon the dynasty. Every detail spoke of grandeur, yet to Keval, it felt more like a theater of hypocrisy, he hated the place, but mostly he hated the work.
As the regent's son and the former empress mother's brother, his presence here was a necessity, given what his father regarded as a fantastic work done the one he did in his absence
