The Empress smiled, as if seeing herself triumph over anyone who dared stand in her way.
Hellebore exited his mother's chambers with confident strides, a mocking smile playing on his lips, radiating defiance and indifference.
He paused for a moment in the long corridor, leaning casually against one of the ornate columns. A light sigh escaped him before he whispered to himself:
"So, Hyacinth... the woman everyone speaks of. Strong, firm, and clever enough to manipulate those around her. It seems my dear mother has finally found someone she deems suitable for my 'imperfect' self."
He let out a short laugh and continued:
"But could it get any more entertaining than this? Perhaps marriage to her will be amusing... or disastrous. Who knows? At least I won't be bored."
He lifted his gaze to the intricately adorned ceiling, as if speaking to an unseen presence:
"Mother, you are more wicked than the devil himself. Every move you make is calculated, as if you're playing a grand game of chess. But I am no mere pawn. I have a mind of my own, and I promise you, this game won't end the way you expect."
He moved with calm steps toward a large window overlooking the palace gardens, bathed in moonlight.
Resting his hand against the cold glass, he seemed to draw strength from its chill — a chilling reminder of his mother's icy heart. His tone grew more serious as he murmured:
"Hyacinth... I wonder how you will handle the chaos that is my life. Will you be yet another who tries to fix me? Or will you simply become another link in the long chain of decisions made on my behalf?"
He smiled again, this time with a blend of defiance and curiosity, before turning away from the window and walking back toward his quarters, ready to face whatever awaited him.
---
The Emperor sat behind his desk, drowning in a sea of official documents that had piled up before him.
The flickering candlelight cast sharp shadows across his weary features, accentuating the lines of exhaustion etched into his face.
He didn't notice Empress Amifira's entrance — she moved toward him silently, like a phantom.
In a soft, warm voice, she said:
"You've done enough for tonight, my lord. You cannot bear the empire's burdens alone."
The Emperor halted his writing but didn't turn to look at her. His voice, low and tense, carried his unrest:
"The burdens do not wait for anyone, Amifira. The empire never sleeps — and neither can I."
Amifira smiled lightly, then added:
"That's why I am here. To remind you that you are not alone. I know you have enemies. I know there are those who question your every decision. But I stand by you — always."
The Emperor closed his eyes briefly, as if letting her words seep into him, though the doubts remained.
He spoke softly, his tone laced with caution:
"Your words are always sweet, Amifira. But you never say anything without a purpose."
She chuckled lightly and leaned in close, her voice a whisper near his ear:
"And is it so wrong to have a purpose? My purpose is to see you strong — to see this throne secure. Your success is my success, is it not?"
Slowly, he opened his eyes and turned his head slightly to glance at her. In his gaze was a mixture of fatigue and suspicion, but he said nothing.
Amifira continued, sensing she still held the upper hand:
"All I ask is that you rely on me more. We are a team, you and I. Trust me — and I will ensure that the throne remains safe."
The Emperor leaned back in his chair, resting against it as he murmured quietly:
"Sometimes I wonder if you seek to protect me... or only yourself."
Amifira smiled, lifting her hand gently to his cheek with a touch both confident and tender:
"Perhaps both, my lord. But isn't that what makes me the perfect partner for you?"
She straightened slowly, stepping back and leaving behind the lingering trace of her luxurious perfume.
With a calm, almost affectionate tone, she added:
"Don't overwork yourself tonight. Your health matters to me... more than you know."
She left the room with graceful, silent steps, leaving the Emperor alone — drowning once more in his thoughts, tangled with her enigmatic words that were never so simple to decipher.
Since her early childhood, Amifira was known as the pampered princess of the great empire of Estaria, the second most powerful empire in the world. She bore the title of "The Jewel of Estaria," but secretly she was also called "The Princess of Vanity," for she was known for her arrogance and the delusions of grandeur that shaped her personality from a young age.
Her father, Emperor Talimar, saw her as his greatest achievement. He showered her with everything she could dream of—from luxurious palaces to the most precious jewels—until she became a symbol of opulence and power. Her mother, Empress Elianora, tried her best to curb her daughter's haughty nature, but Amifira saw it as an attempt to weaken her and only grew more stubborn and rebellious.
During a royal visit to the empire of Shambhala, the strongest and greatest empire in the world, Amifira traveled with her father on a political mission. Shambhala was known as the jewel of the world, with palaces that touched the skies and unmatched power. On that visit, Amifira met the crown prince at the time, Callistus, renowned for his sharp mind and strength, which made him beloved by his people and feared by his enemies.
But what caught Amifira's attention was not Callistus alone, but rather his wife, Aster, who was proudly introduced by the former emperor as the wife of his son and the mother of his awaited grandchild. Aster was pregnant with Adonis at that time, radiating a natural, innocent beauty that captivated everyone.
Amifira observed how everyone treated Aster, from the former emperor, who showed her fatherly love and respect, to Callistus, who demonstrated deep love and unwavering loyalty toward her. The atmosphere around her was filled with warmth and harmony, making Amifira feel a burning bitterness in her heart.
"Why her?" Amifira wondered to herself. "How can a simple woman like Aster receive all this love and respect? Why is she treated like a queen while I, the princess of Estaria, have nothing but my titles?"
Jealousy fueled her raging desire. She wanted to be the one standing beside Callistus, to be the Empress of Shambhala, the most powerful woman in the world. Her ambition began to turn into an obsession, and she saw Aster as an obstacle that needed to be removed by any means necessary.
After that visit, Amifira returned to Estaria, but she never forgot what she had witnessed. She began plotting cunningly, using her intelligence and charm to get closer to Callistus at every opportunity. She knew that the road to Shambhala's throne wouldn't be easy—but it would be worth it.
For Amifira, it wasn't merely political ambition; it was a personal vendetta against Aster, the woman who had everything Amifira ever desired: beauty, love, and a status that made the world bow before her.
After a long night filled with worry and quiet whispers, the morning came softly, carrying the scent of rain-soaked earth in the cool air, while the sweet songs of birds filled the atmosphere. Daphne was the first to wake up, her gaze moving between the deeply sleeping Adonis and the peacefully slumbering Yarrow and Marshmall on her bed. She looked at them for a moment, then decided to closely watch over Adonis.
Daphne quietly descended to the kitchen, first preparing food for Yarrow and Marshmall, carefully placing the bowls before them without waking them. She then began preparing breakfast for Adonis, feeling a deep sense of responsibility toward him, especially after his exhausting day.
While she was busy in the kitchen, Adonis suddenly woke up. He smiled softly, murmuring in a low voice: "I haven't slept like this in a very long time..."
He looked around and was surprised to see Daphne busy preparing breakfast. He quickly got out of bed and changed into his military uniform with haste, as if time itself was pressing on him. But before he could leave the room, he felt a touch on his hand. Daphne had approached him quietly, then carefully wrote in her notebook and held it up to him: "Are you okay? What about breakfast?"
Adonis gave her a cautious smile and said: "Sorry, I'm late. We'll have dinner together, I promise. And by the way, I didn't bother you last night, did I?"
Daphne smiled a little, then quickly wrote in her notebook: "No, not at all. The important thing is that you're okay."
She then added, watching his movements with worried eyes: "But make sure you get some rest too."
Adonis glanced at her one last time, then gently placed his hand on her head and said in a low voice: "Today, Yarrow will stay with you. He's tired, and I don't want you to feel lonely. Be careful."
Daphne quickly wrote in her notebook, even though she felt a twinge of sadness: "Goodbye."
Then Adonis left quickly, while Daphne remained in the kitchen, slowly continuing to prepare coffee and breakfast, her heart filled with mixed emotions. She smiled faintly, but inside, she had many questions and worries about what challenges the day might bring.
Inside the imperial palace, the scene was grand and silent. Towering white marble columns touched the ceiling, and crystal chandeliers cast soft light upon the polished floors that reflected every step. The air was tense, as if the walls themselves were awaiting an imminent explosion.
Adonis entered, wearing his military uniform adorned with the golden emblem of the empire. He walked with confident steps, his long cloak brushing the floor, the sound of his metal boots echoing through the hall. His icy blue eyes reflected the sternness of someone who knew his place and worth.
On the other side, Hellebore was casually leaning against a marble column, one hand resting on his hip, his legs crossed in a relaxed stance. His long golden hair cascaded over his shoulders, and his sly smile accentuated the mischief etched into his features. He resembled a lurking tiger, waiting for the perfect moment to strike with his poisonous words.
Adonis stopped just a few steps away. Hellebore raised his head to face him with a mocking gaze. "It's strange to see the role model commander arriving late," Hellebore said with a voice dripping with sarcasm. He paused for a moment as if remembering something, then added, "Oh, right, I forgot. You're alone. Where's your black dog? Hmm... your loyal friend? Strange that you can't find friends among your own kind. Do they run away from you, or are you simply unworthy of their loyalty?"
Adonis was silent for a moment, then raised his head steadily, a cold smile forming on his lips. "That's right. Because a dog is more loyal than humans... loyalty you, Hellebore, clearly lack... isn't that so?"
Hellebore didn't lose his composure. On the contrary, he approached Adonis with slow, deliberate steps, as if his previous words hadn't been enough. "Loyalty? Maybe. But let me remind you of something: betrayal of the empire runs in your blood, just like it did in your mother's... Aster."
In that instant, Adonis's face changed completely. His eyes blazed with a fury he could no longer hide, and his once cold features transformed into a storm of emotions. In the blink of an eye, he drew his sword from its scabbard, the metallic sound slicing through the air. He advanced one swift step until the shining blade pressed against Hellebore's neck.
The silence that followed was heavy, as if even the air had frozen. Adonis's fierce blue eyes locked onto Hellebore's, and his voice came out low and sharp, like the very sword he held: "How dare you mention my mother with your filthy mouth? If you utter her name again, I will make you regret every word you've said."
But Hellebore did not move, even with the sword at his throat. His sly smile remained unchanged, his mischievous eyes staring steadily at Adonis. "Anger doesn't suit you, great commander," he said calmly, provocatively. "Right now, you look more like a wounded beast. Is this your true face?"
Adonis gripped his sword tighter, veins bulging in his hand from the intensity of his fury. For a moment, it seemed he was about to strike, but the disciplined mind of the commander within him intervened. Suddenly, with a violent motion, he withdrew the sword from Hellebore's neck, creating a sharp whooshing sound through the air, and returned it forcefully to its scabbard.
He turned away with steady steps, his final words low but dripping with contempt: "Remember, Hellebore, I am the one who holds this empire together. As for you... you're nothing but a fading shadow."
Without looking back, Adonis left the hall, his black cloak billowing behind him...