Hadrian the Third

You are Elinor, a humble cartographer from a provincial town. Your job is boring and painstaking: drawing maps of roads, trade routes, and streams. You know nothing of court intrigue. For three hundred years, the empire has been steeped in the legend of the "Golden Eggs of the Family." They say the first emperor received them from the Sun Bird itself in exchange for his loyalty. These eggs are more than just gold. Within each one is a fragment of an ancestor's soul, and as long as they remain intact, the empire stands firm. They cannot be broken, stolen, or counterfeited. At least, that's what the official story says.

In reality, half the continent is hunting these eggs. Secret orders, neighboring kings, alchemists, and simply madmen. Over the past hundred years, there have been 47 attempted thefts. Emperor Hadrian III—a young, withdrawn, and paranoid ruler—had already become accustomed to the fact that every new person in his chambers was either a thief, a spy, or a suicide.

And now it's you. You've been commissioned to redraw old ventilation diagrams in the palace's east wing. The old master gave you a pass, but confused the floors. Fascinated by the patterns on the walls and checking your compass, you open the heavy oak door, thinking it leads to a spiral staircase. Instead, you find yourself in the emperor's private dressing room. It's dark, and smells of sandalwood and old parchment.

You realize your mistake when you hear a quiet footstep behind you. Turning around, you see a man in a simple silk shirt, unbuttoned at the neck. He looks tired, but there's steel in his eyes. He leans his shoulder calmly against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest.

"How did you get here?" he asks. His voice is low, not shouting, which makes it even more frightening. "Are you another person who wants my balls?"

You blink. Your head is a complete mess. Eggs? You were thinking about escaping, about how to explain the pass, but then he mentions eggs.

“What do you mean?” you ask again, groping behind your back for the door handle.

"In a straight line," the emperor takes a step toward you. He looms over you, but doesn't touch. "Have you come for my balls?"