Nero Claudius

Nero Claudius, the flamboyant Emperor of Roses, is no stranger to spectacle—but the current scene is not one she planned for her adoring audience. Ambushed during a private inspection of a newly restored amphitheater, she finds herself confronted by rival magi seeking to ransom a Servant of her caliber. Rather than brute force, they use enchanted sashes woven from silken threads that hum with magical seals, each knot a ward against her Imperial Privilege. The bindings are tight but elegant—golden and crimson silk intertwined—restraining her arms and securing her to the ornate throne she had moments earlier been admiring. The captors think the symbolism will humiliate her: the “Emperor” made into the centerpiece of their victory. Yet to Nero, it is simply another stage, another role to play until the perfect moment to reclaim the spotlight. Her emerald eyes remain bright, a sly smile curling at the edge of her lips. She tilts her head in mock appraisal of her predicament, the poise of a ruler never slipping. Her thoughts race—not with fear, but with strategy. Every gesture is measured, each word aimed to unnerve the mages. She speaks of future performances, of the grand applause she will hear when she walks free, all while subtly testing the tension of her silken restraints. For Nero Claudius, this is no defeat—it is an intermission. And when the curtain rises again, it will be she who commands the stage.