The gilded hall, a whispered trade,
Where loyalties, like shadows, fade.
No constant sun, no steadfast star,
But shifting tides and distant war.
A handshake firm, a knowing glance,
A woven web of circumstance.
The spoken word, a silken lie,
Reflected in a watchful eye.
The parchment signed, the treaty sealed,
A fragile pact soon to be peeled.
For power's dance, a restless sway,
Where yesterday's...
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