Corin’s family had always served the Emperor as custodians, since the time of His very first Tithe over three hundred years ago. Corin had read well the records of his ancestors, and could trace the swings in His Lord's mood through the centuries. The Emperor was no elf (though he had some elven blood in him) and so did not naturally have the mental fortitude for immortality.

He had ceased making love a century ago, after the death of Wife IV and the ennui that followed. This had been a cause of concern at the time. It was expected of any powerful Imperial to maintain and enjoy the company of concubines or slaves, as a display of virility and mastery. The man still married and sired children, of course, as a matter of political survival, but no longer for pleasure. That impulse had seemingly burnt itself out.

All that had changed with the last Tithe. The new Empress had discovered tantalising new appetites within her new body. First, she had her fill of General Domitian, then demanded others, urgently, two or three at a time. Corin rushed to deliver them up to the imperial bedchamber, particularly with how his Lord's eyes were sizing him up.

Now the man wished to bathe with women. Corin obliged, sourcing beauties from noble daughters to the slave markets. He told them nothing, but he made it clear that any whisper of their time there meant death - the senate was already struggling to stop the spread of gossip. Corin stood watch outside the thermal baths, listening to the quiet giggles and splashes within. The Emperor was frolicking, tender maidens soaping his breasts.

An attendant came running.

"The plebs are gathering in the square. They demand to know about the Emperor's, um, 'condition'. What do we do?!"

There were options - the useful matter of the Tithe was that they could present almost anyone to the public and claim it was the renewed Emperor. But it would require His agreement. And getting the man's attention on matters of state was proving almost impossible.

But the time had come for action. Corin nodded to the attendant and stepped inside the thermal baths.

Dozens of dark-haired heads turned his way with questioning, limpid eyes, interrupted in the midst of their lovemaking. The Imperial crown bobbed in the water. Corin gulped. Which of these were the slave girls and which were the Emperor? He had no idea...