He idly tapped his ringed finger against the desktop. “Where did I go wrong?” he asked the empty room. “I only wanted to give the people what they needed, leadership, direction, a sense of purpose.”
He lapsed into silence again and opened the desk drawer, inside was an old and well cared for fighting dagger. “You have never betrayed me, old friend.”
When the revolutionaries broke down the door, they found glassy dead eyes staring accusingly at them, a dagger buried in the leader’s chest, his own hands wrapped around the hilt.
These rings are made from heavy gold and are set with a carved stone seal, the design of the seal is worn and undistinguishable until someone puts it on, then it changes to that of their personal seal.