Chapter 377 The Emperor Concessions

"This elevated view does make the world feel different. What a magnificent seat. So, this is the throne I was meant to inherit."

"Your Highness…"

Rozier's eyes glistened with unshed tears. Maximilian let out a dry, hollow laugh, filled with resignation.

"How foolish. If I had known this seat was so splendid, I would have waited. I would have simply waited to sit here first, to see the world from here."

He recalled his dissatisfaction with his father, Zichard, a man unable to overpower the great nobles and enforce imperial authority. Maximilian had been discontent with the authority he was meant to inherit.

So, he sought to grow it—build it into something towering, something that touched the heavens, from which he could look down on all.

In doing so, he dismissed the throne he had never sat upon, belittling its significance. Yet now, as he sat in it, the seat felt far more alluring and comfortable than he had ever imagined.