The room is so silent I can hear the frantic thudding of my own heart, yet my voice remains steady, cutting through the stagnant air of the hall.
"Nobody has ever claimed that people in the Empire's regions are not facing poverty," the Emperor says, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that vibrates through the floorboards.
"My apologies, Your Majesty—poverty can be survived."
I take another step forward.
"What they lack… is the right to live as human beings."
I counter, refusing to back down. I step closer to the central table, my shadow stretching across the pristine maps.
"Let me get to the heart of it. Within our borders, those of Common Bloodlines live peaceful lives under the Empire's protection."
"But The Fragmented. The Faded. The Hollow. The Diluted."
I let each word land.
"They are not living. They are surviving. They cannot even secure protection for their women, food for their children, or even a roof over their heads."
