A Royal Broadcast

You demanded a chronicle of my life, so I sought the all-seeing cyclops upon the wooden desk. I marched past scattered paper scrolls and planted my claws before the glowing glass bead of the webcam. Its tiny green eye blinked to life, humming with a faint electronic pulse. I did not scurry or perform; the life of a king speaks for itself. Bracing my heavy tail against an overturned mug, I leaned toward the lens, opened my jaws wide in a silent declaration of rule, and held my ground. If your world wishes to see how I live, let this lens record undisputed power.