"You know," I said, "I remember seeing wild creatures like you before. But they were all just animals. Simple beings, unable to speak the human tongue."
I turned on my side, facing him across the bed.
"Some say that the special species were sent by the Stars, from distant worlds, places where beings like you are a natural part of the ecosystem. Do you come from there too?"
He frowned slightly. "What? No."
"Then from where?"
"Wait. Why are you in my bed?!"
Silence hung between us. Seriously, can't he just commit to the role and play along??
"You're staring again," he murmured lazily, eyes half-closed.
"I am not," I replied, turning my gaze to the window above his head.
He chuckled, low and warm. "You are. I can feel it."
I crossed my arms. "Maybe I'm staring at the wall behind you. It's a far more impressive conversationalist than you."
Alet tilted his head slightly. "The wall doesn't wink back."
I tried not to laugh. "Someone's in a good mood today?"
His expression softened. "He values you a lot, the emperor."
"I wouldn't say that. Erzion is a good ruler. He knows how to get what he wants, that's all. My worth comes from my powers and the fact that I'm a god. Nothing more."
"You dare call the emperor by his name?"
I had been lying on his bed, waiting for him to wake, but I didn't expect him to be this talkative once he did.
"We grew up together. I've never once called him by his title unironically."
"You've lived here all your life?"
"No, not really. My first year was spent in a city near the Great Desert. They summoned me there, and we stayed for quite some time."
"I woke up in the Desert too," he said quietly. "Some people found me, took me in, raised me until I was old enough to leave."
"At least you got to leave," I said softly. "How did they handle the…"
"The horns?" He smiled faintly. "They didn't mind. I was stronger than most humans. I helped protect them, worked around the house and the farm. The couple couldn't have children, so they saw me as a blessing."
"How kind of them," I murmured.
I sighed, the sound heavy with something unsaid. The quiet stretched between us again, filled only by the hum of the wind outside the window. A strand of hair slipped across my face and I brushed it away absently, my gaze fixed somewhere past Alet, at nothing in particular.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"I have to meet a very annoying person today. She'll be staying in the court for the next two weeks."
"Ah," he said with mock sympathy. "My condolences."
"You'll see her soon enough. I asked Erzion to assign you as my personal guard during the ceremonies and gatherings."
"And he agreed?"
"A favor for a favor. He asked something of me and I asked for something in return."
"What did he ask for?"
"A secret," I said, smiling faintly.
"Alright then."
"Okay," I muttered, swinging my legs off the bed. "Time to prepare for the welcoming ceremony. The first guests will arrive within the hour. Get ready and wait for me at the front gate in an hour."
***
When I stepped outside, the air greeted me with a crisp bite, the kind that made the silk of my robes cling to my skin. The morning light was pale, silvering the courtyard stones. My hair was styled into two thick low buns. I wore my usual crown, its many gems flickering as they caught the light, and a light gray robe with a high collar, trimmed in gold and adorned with delicate ornaments.
Alet was already waiting by the gate, dressed in the dark uniform Erzion's guards favored—though his presence made the simple attire look far more regal than it should have. His horns caught the light faintly, like polished obsidian.
"You're early," I said, adjusting the thick scarf around my shoulders which I was using to keep me warm.
"You're late," he replied, falling into step beside me as the door behind me closed with a dull sound.
The path to the main palace stretched before us, winding through the gardens. The late autumn flowers were still in bloom—sharp bursts of gold and red against the cool gray marble. Servants hurried along the edges of the walkway, carrying banners and trays of crystal cups, their whispers hushed at the sight of us.
I glanced sideways at him. "Tell me, where do you train these days?"
He blinked, a faint crease forming between his brows. "At.. the training grounds?"
"Yes. Where is that? You see... I never get to watch the soldiers training anymore. Not since Erzion decided to… take them away from my sight."
For a moment, he said nothing. Only the steady rhythm of our steps filled the silence. Then, quietly: "The Emperor probably had his reasons."
"I'm sure he did, especially after that one incident," I answered.
Alet's gaze flicked towards the distant towers of the main palace. "I don't know much about it, but I heard that only those who serve directly under the emperor are permitted to enter."
"That sounds like him," I murmured. "Hiding everything from me beyond the horizon."
He gave a small shrug. "Sometimes secrecy keeps people safe..."
"Or ignorant," I countered.
We reached the marble bridge that spanned the lotus ponds and the palace loomed before us. White stone, tall spires, banners fluttering in the wind. From the upper terraces came the faint murmur of music and the clatter of preparations.
***
I doubt you'd find the part where we walk to the throne hall particularly fascinating, so let's skip that tedious stretch of an already absurdly dull day.
Now I'm seated about two meters to the left of Erzion's throne. It was my preferred side, since I have always believed my left profile to be the more photogenic one. From here, I can watch the entire procession of guests without having to look bored. It's a delicate art, appearing attentive when your mind is half a world away.
Alet stands beside my seat, a silent shadow in dark uniform. I glance up at him whenever a new pair of nobles approaches, whispering commentary that I suspect is the only thing keeping either of us awake.
"These two," I murmured as the herald announced the names, "are the Crown Prince of Orion, Deon, and his wife. He's decently handsome, but I prefer her more. She has an adorable laugh, like she's constantly on the verge of mocking everyone in the room. And she is quite stupid so it's a real enterntainment to be on a table with her."
Alet tilted his head slightly, eyes on the couple bowing before the Emperor. If someone with poor eyesight looked at him, they might mistake him for a large black cat. His horns could easily be seen as pointed ears and his long dark hair as fur.
The next guests followed soon after: the younger princess of Orion, Pariam, and her consort. Her gown shimmered like liquid gold, heavy with ornaments and delicate accessories that caught the light with every movement. Tiny gemstones were stitched along the hem and bodice, while chains of fine gold draped across her shoulders. It was clear she had spent great effort preparing her outfit and yet her expression was that of a woman who would rather be anywhere else.
"There's a rumor about her," I said casually. "Apparently, she entertains other men at night, since her husband prefers... different company."
"You mean he also goes around sleeping with other women?"
"Men, Alet, men. Oh Stars, the phrase different company in any royal court means that."
Alet exhaled softly through his nose. "Where do you even hear these things?"
"From servants," I replied. "People talk, Alet. And I listen."
He shook his head, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward.
The line of guests continued. The dukes of Solstice were next. These were empire's oldest families, all desperate to look more important than they were.
First came the Duke of Marenvale, his robes heavy with embroidered suns, his wife gleaming in a gown that probably cost more than a small town. "He controls the southern ports," I whispered. "And she controls him. Heard some weird things about their bedroom activities from two servants on the last birthday banquet."
Then the twins from House Kaelis arrive. Identical. "They're the Emperor's distant cousins," I added. "They've been fighting over the same estate for three years. I'm hoping one of them poisons the other soon, just for the entertainment value."
Alet tried - and failed- not to laugh. "This is far too much, why would you ever say such things, oh saint."
"I wouldn't be so hostile towards those two guys if they didn't remind me of Kiana and Kayana."
"Who?"
"Forget it."
After all four dukes families came the delegation from Fiorium, the second other kingdom on the continent. Their arrival shifted the air in the hall, the murmurs lowering to an uneasy hush. Fiorium's banners were darker, their silks thicker, and their manner far more restrained.
At their head walked Crown Prince Lorian of Fiorium—a weird man with a very disturbing expression. Like a stone, or an unpleasant doll. His sister followed, Princess Yrene, radiant in dark green and silver, her eyes sharp as cut glass.
I leaned slightly towards Alet. "Behold Fiorium's pride. Lorian hasn't smiled in.. never, and Yrene... well, rumor says she once stabbed her tutor with a hairpin. I bet that there were more than one tries to kill this old pa."
He raised a brow. "Charming people."
"Oh, delightful," I said. "You'll love the way they pretend to adore us while quietly planning our downfall. Still, we're on good terms with the other three kingdoms on the continent, at least for now."
Erzion's voice carried across the throne hall then, smooth and practiced as ever, welcoming the Fiorian royals with the same calm dignity he gave everyone else. His carefully maintained soft smile made everyone feel welcomed to the court. Hideous, pathetic, I believe bipolar as well. Or even worse. A great actor.
I sat back in my seat, watching the glittering crowd bow and smile, all pretense and performance.
"Remind me later," I murmured. "I have a bet going on how long it'll take before someone starts an argument over territory. I said before sunset."
Alet's lips curved faintly. "You gamble on politics now?"
I smiled. "What else is there to gamble with, when the world insists on being this dreadfully boring?"
"Who are you betting with, then?" Alet asked.
"Miriam," I answered. "And her ladies-in-waiting. A servant came this morning with the usual invitation to her royal tea party tomorrow. She always hosts one right after the first day of arrivals, so we can dissect every guest before Erzion's birthday ceremony. Three days in advance, naturally."
"Princess Miriam has some strange hobbies."
"I suppose she does. She started inviting me because she finds my commentary… entertaining. And I go because we both hate these people more than we dislike each other."
Alet's mouth twitched. "That's almost touching."
"I guess it's the closest thing to friendship you can find in this court." And my dear Onet.
The last to enter were the royals from Henio. Their arrival dragged the mood down like wet velvet. I could almost feel the collective restraint of the court, everyone forcing polite smiles as the herald's voice echoed through the throne hall:
"Presenting His Majesty King Aldren of Henio and Her Highness Princess Tanya."
A hush followed, heavy with the kind of anticipation that only comes before an unpleasant scene.
King Aldren was broad and red-faced, his crown sitting on his head like a squished pancake. He had the look of a man used to shouting across banquet tables rather than ruling a kingdom. His daughter, on the other hand, Princess Tanya, was the sort of woman who believed every step she took deserved applause.
She entered like a storm disguised as silk: chin high, lips painted a violent shade of rose, her gown shimmering with enough jewels to buy one of Solstice's provinces. Every movement was exaggerated, practiced, deliberate—as though she'd spent the entire journey rehearsing her entrance in front of a mirror.
I leaned slightly towards Alet. "Brace yourself," I whispered. "That's Princess Tanya. Last time I saw her was on Miriam's wedding, then she was sent to the other continent for some royal affairs."
Alet's expression didn't move, but I caught the subtle lift of his brow. "Was her father with her the last time?"
"Oh, yes," I said, barely suppressing a grimace. " Now once again too. Apparently, His Majesty decided the only way to secure her a crown was to deliver her personally. The poor man's deluded enough to think Erzion might actually look twice at her."
Tanya curtsied—or attempted to. It came out more like a performance, all sweeping fabric and too-bright smiles. Her father followed with a bow that was both too shallow and too long, as though he couldn't decide whether to appear humble or proud. Her dark raven hair was arranged in an elaborate cascade of curls, each one lacquered into submission and threaded with strands of silver and tiny gemstones.
"Disgusting," I muttered.
Alet gave me a sidelong look. "You hide it well."
"I try," I said, folding my hands neatly in my lap. "But I can already smell her perfume from here. It's like drowning in roses and desperation."
Erzion, ever composed, greeted them with some diplomatic words. His voice carried easily through the hall, but I didn't bother listening to what he said. I'd seen this dance too many times before.
"She's not even pretending to look at him respectfully," I murmured under my breath. "She's staring at him like he's a prize to be mounted."
"Maybe that's her strategy," Alet said softly.
"Then the Gods help her, because Erzion hates that woman."
A moment later, another figure followed behind Princess Tanya. A step slower, quieter.
The lady-in-waiting was young. Her gown was modest beside Tanya's spectacle: soft dove-gray silk, unadorned save for a faint embroidery of lilies at the cuffs. Her hair, a pale ash brown, was pinned neatly at the back of her neck, and her eyes… Gods, she didn't even bother hiding the dark circles beneath them.
I leaned slightly towards Alet. "There," I murmured. "Behind the peacock in crimson. That's her lady-in-waiting. Poor thing looks like she hasn't slept in a year. Another victim of prolonged exposure to idiocy."
Alet's gaze flicked past Tanya. "What about the other one?"
He always looks at me with some weird curiosity, but even thought he asked about that girl there was not even the slightest blink of interest in his eyes.
I followed his gesture. Another lady-in-waiting stood beside the first—shorter, plainer, with the energy of someone who doesn't even bother to exist.
"She's just ugly."
Alet made a sound suspiciously close to a laugh, which he hid behind a cough. I caught Erzion turning his head slightly in our direction, but he didn't say a word.
The Henio delegation stepped aside at last, their bows and simpers complete, joining the glittering herd of royals already arranged along the hall. I rested my chin against my hand, exhaling a quiet sigh. "Well, that's everyone. The hall's full, the sycophants are in position and I can finally stop pretending this doesn't make me want to set something on fire."
Alet chuckled under his breath. "Perhaps wait until after the Emperor's speech."
"Perhaps," I said, though my tone made it sound more like a threat than a promise.
It was about time for some overly grand words to spill from Erzion's mouth. Once the speech ended, the families retired to their assigned rooms to rest, waiting for the evening to arrive.
Later, only the very highborn flock would migrate to a special dinner hall, pretending to be important while doing absolutely nothing of consequence. Miriam hadn't come to the welcoming ceremony because of the "urgent matters of state" she's always buried in but I will definitely see her at dinner.