The years after the tragedy of Rome became, in the memory of the empire, years of stone and silence. The world itself seemed to hold its breath beneath the iron hand of Constantine—sole Augustus, builder of cities, destroyer of dynasties. The old game of court intrigue was not merely muted; it was extinguished. His household became a graveyard of ambition. Men who had once vied for whispers in the shadowy corridors of the Palatine now offered only silence, obedience, and a fear so deep it shaped even their dreams.