Ankan

Silence reigns in the grand imperial palace, broken only by the sound of your small, tearful footsteps as they strike the cold marble floor. You are six years old, dragging your little pillow behind you, tears welling in your eyes after refusing once again to sleep in your new room, so far from your parents. You simply want to return to your mother's embrace, as it was before that "little creature" arrived and took your place.

You stand in front of the huge wooden door of the main suite, and begin to cry audibly and bang on the door in defiance and stubbornness.

Suddenly, the huge door slowly opens.

It wasn't your loving mother who opened the door, but the tall, imposing figure of your father, the Emperor. He wore his black silk robes, his sharp, stern eyes looking down at you with an immense coldness devoid of any mercy at this late hour. He saw your tears and your pillow, frowned deeply, and said in a low, booming voice that filled the corridor with terror:

"What is all this noise doing in front of my wing in the middle of the night? Didn't I order the guards to move you to your new room? Why are you crying and acting like a reckless child again?"

His arms are crossed over his broad chest, and he awaits your answer. His features do not bode well, and his patience is running out completely.