Certainly!

You were laying down on the bed late at night. Your bright blue patterned silk robe was untied and left your body open to the view of the Emperor. If it you two hadn't just got done with your nightly session he would have likely jumped on top of you and went mad with lust. After getting his nightly screw he was much more docile and paced about the room wearing nothing but a pair of purple and yellow embroidered breeches. A well stitched design ran up the left and right leg. You could tell from your limited knowledge of courtly attire that this style of breeches haven't been popular for some time.

"I'm feeling quite hot tonight." The Emperor stopped in his place and gave his belly a scratch. "I think I'll call for some refreshments and go for a second round." He walked over to the door, knocked and opened up a small metal slit that allowed him to see outside. It would appear that this would be the night for the plan to go off. Erron was already prepared for this.

"Yes m'lord?" Your heard Emperor Georgion's head **** Til reply swiftly.

"Bring some spiced figs, some Bahdish wine and a little bit of some of that Dandolo spice for my pipe. I'm a dragon tonight, elf. A dragon!" The Emperor guffawed and slammed the slit shut. He spun his old body around and gave a lecherous smile to you.

"I assume I need more seedbane lotion master?" You felt a sickness pass over your body when you said 'master.' The Emperor demanded that you call him master so that you fulfilled a special fetish for him. You adjusted your silk robe out of disgust when you noted the Emperor's prick get larger from your words. He sat down next to you on the bed with a smile and began to rub your thigh softly.

"No, no my darling." He said facetiously. "I'm thinking of playing with your ass this time. No need to use any of that anti-pregnancy foolishness." You felt even worse at hearing this news. The Emperor had only played with your behind once and it was incredibly painful. He stuck his fingers in your asshole and rammed them in and out without concern for your enjoyment. He was truly a sick man. Not only did he make your ass hurt for days with that nonsense, he also violated one of the codes of the Temple.

"Thou must not take part in sick and ritualistic desecration of the backside. Such areas are for excrement and excrement alone!" - Tabulus 10:2

Suddenly you heard a knock on the door and the Emperor hopped up with anticipation. His refreshments have arrived. Nothing got him more excited than luxuries and immoralities. The Emperor had the bad luck of being raised in a time when there was not much **** or strife in the world. In result he left things to the council and grew more and more immoral as time went on. Outside of sex, his favorite thing was food and drink.

"Ah, my favorite elf! Til!" The Emperor shamelessly strode over to the door and swung it open. Upon the gold encrusted silver platter was 4 spiced figs, a small but fancy glass flacon containing Bahdish wine, and a small bit of red powder on the side. Til put the platter upon the Emperor's desk and quickly excused himself. Til was a noticeably attractive individual. He had long white hair which he typically tied back into a pony tail, light tan skin and sparkling purple eyes. He was also known for his well developed figure which was no doubt the result of fantastic genes. Regardless of his genes being good or bad, he was an part Elf by blood. A **** half-Elf at that.

Your mother always used to say you should marry anyone you want, just not an Elf and certainly never a ****. Perhaps you should have taken mother's advice. Maybe if you did you wouldn't be here and you would be married off to some nobody. Then you wouldn't need to break Temple codes to free yourself. Such was a thing of dreams. At least for you.

The Emperor took gulped down the Bahdish wine and slipped a spiced fig into his mouth with reckless abandon. While he ate his spiced figs and made merry he loaded up his spice pipe. The Emperor was not a heavy user of smoking spices unlike much of the nobility, but he did partake from time to time. His pipe was a testament to his lack of interest in smoking spices. Most nobles had expensive and gaudy pipes to show their wealth but the Emperor only had an ivory pipe with a silver coated tip for the mouth piece.

"Emira, bend over on the bed." said the Emperor as he lit his pipe. His faced suddenly reacted against the strong **** and gave a bit of a cough and a giggle. While the Emperor was regaining his sense you slid over on the bed and onto your hands and knees, flipping the silk robe up on your side effortlessly. You felt the cold night air on your crotch because it was shamelessly exposed. If anyone walked in at this moment they would see your little brown butt hole and your remarkably smooth pussy lips.

You then felt a hand slowly approach your backside and you heard the heavy breathing of a dirty man. A fat, lumpy finger began to enter your ass hole and wiggled around inside of you. For a few seconds you were thinking he was going to continue and that your plan had failed, but without warning the finger slipped out of your tight ass and you heard a thump on the ground. You spun around in a fit of joy and suddenly beheld your greatest glory, the Emperor Georgion II of Theodosa half naked on the ground with a dirty finger and foam dribbling out of his fat maw. The poison worked better than Erron said it would. Within a few seconds the life had left his eyes and he was dead. You smiled devilishly to yourself and tied your robe. The first part of the plan was finished, now it was time for part two.

You pulled the Emperor up onto the bed with all of your might and placed him in as much of a peaceful posture you could manage. Then you wiped the foam from his mouth. You needed to make it look like you spoke with him before he died. All words spoken by the Emperor were law and therefore Emperors would typically give final wills on their deathbeds. If you were present for his **** and the only witness, you could decide his will retroactively. With the preparations finished you began to weep. Not out of fear for your life (you did just **** the Emperor) or because you regretted what you did, but because you wanted to attract attention. Within a minute or so Til rushed in and fell to his knees.

"Empress, I will get the nobles." Til rose to his feet and sprinted out of the room sounding a call of alarm.

After several hours had passed, the nobles who were in the capital city of Agrenon and the surrounding country side had assembled before you in the grandiose throne room. You sat upon the golden and glistening throne with a embroidered and luxurious gown. You were adorned with perfumes and all sorts of jewelry. You were also given a crown with many gemstones and bright white pearls. This was not the crown of the Empress however, it was the crown of a Dowager - the widow of a noble title holder.

They all bowed to you in respect and as a show of loyalty to the Emperor, the Empire, and the Imperial system. Before you could begin your speech and explain the will of the Emperor, you need to make a choice. A very, very important choice. You need to decide whom the Emperor named as his successor. This successor could be of any age, and of any societal status. The successor could be anyone from one of the Emperor's sons to a religious figure. The only restriction was that they had to be a male and someone born of human blood on their father's side. Take note, you must select someone whom you can trust or control. You will be working with them closely until the end of your days in the Imperial cort so choose wisely...