The moonlit glow streamed through the window, casting a shimmering light on delicate, pale blue and green gemstones shaped like raindrops.

A torrential rain engulfed the city of Marrossi, and the burning sensation course down my throat, clouding my mind with thoughts and tasks I have to face – most of them against my will.

Among them were the execution of a man who committed treason, the consequences of his sins to his wife and family, the marriage of convenience being forced on me, and now, that woman in the battlefield I ordered to be spied on.

A familiar bird flew into the opened window of my room, transforming into a woman who knelt before me, with her face concealed in a manner befitting a servant.

“Greetings, Your Highness,” she began. “I have come here to report, as you ordered.” I gestured for her to stand, indicating that she can go on with the report.

“Such a terrible timing, but go on,” I replied, weariness evident in my voice. “Let’s hear what you have to say. Give me the big ideas, since I’m eager to retire for the night.”

“The lady you told me to spy on isn’t an ordinary woman in the battlefield, but the princess of Eurhyia. She’s currently on the run and heading Marrossi, though her goals are unclear. She’s now aware that I’m an Izavene because I showed myself to her, and now she told me to send a letter to a friend of her in Eurhyia. But since I don’t understand Eurhyian language, I’m afraid I can’t tell what’s in it.”

“So, you’re telling me that she trusted you enough to send a letter? Through you, who fooled her? I don’t think she’s that gullible.” I lazily crossed my legs and leaned my cheek on my fist. “What does she look like?” I asked.

“Her height is around the height of your shoulders, Your Highness. She has similar features to a normal Izavene. Her mahogany hair is quite wavy. She has a fit body, porcelain skin tone and supple lips. She also has a small mole under her left eye. What I noticed is she has an intimidating aura. She looks at people with intensity … with a death stare. But normally it’s not because she’s angry, but simply in deep thoughts. It’s hard to discern what she’s thinking, because her emotions are rarely expressed.”

A strong, and independent woman. Perhaps that’s a good way to describe her in a few words.

“That will do. You are dismissed,” I ordered, ending our conversation. She bowed to show respect, before transforming into a bird just as how she entered. I watched from the corner of my eyes, and I picked up the feather that drifted down to the floor.

I gripped the half-empty glass of wine tightly between my fingers, and slowly moved it from left to right, watching the red fluid obediently following the path I traced. I felt the heat from my hands, causing the glass to turn into thousands of pieces. The glass shards and spilled wine were all over my desk, creating a messy scene.

It’s quite late to call a servant to clean up.

Just as how I was about to go to bed, a knock interrupted my actions, drawing my attention to the door.

"Come in," I responded, clueless about who it can be at this time of night. I turned in the direction of the door and I saw a familiar figure, her facial expression stern.

She walks closer to me like the elegant and strong empress that she is, and I looked at her plainly, not having the energy to greet her with formalities the way how I taught it should be since I was young.

We stared at each other without saying a word, and I squeezed my eyes shut as I feel my head throbbing due to headache.

“Judging on how you look like, it seems like you had enough wine,” the empress pointed out, her eyes filled with disappointment, and yet she managed to keep her composure. “You can’t be like this when you become the emperor.”

I sat on the couch properly and stretched my arm to point the area where she can sit. “What brings you here?”

“You talk to me as if I’m not your mother. Clearly, you’re out of your mind at the moment. You weren’t in the palace the whole day, and I want to discuss something with you in person. At first, I thought it was urgent, but now I could say that I was wrong,” She sat next to me on the couch and gently cupped her hand on my face. “My dear son, before I tell you what I’m here for, I’d like to know why you’re acting like this. What happened?”

Part of me says that I shouldn’t tell her, but at the same time, she showed me that she’s here as my mother, not an empress. It’s surprisingly caring of her.

“I went to the town earlier and I happened to run into him. If you remember Dante Fletcher, that is." I admitted, and her eyes widened for a second, and the corner of her lips lifted as if amused. I know that something’s off whenever she makes that face. What is it this time?

“You haven’t moved on from your past engagement and betrayal?”

“Psh,” I winced, even if it’s all obvious. “Seeing Dante reminds me of how I found the two of them back then. It was a total eyesore. To be honest, I still have lots of questions, but at the same time, I don't want to know them. But even if I haven’t forgiven him, I’m less angry than I used to.”

"Don't worry. It simply means that you don't deserve to have a woman who gets easily tempted by lowly guards who have the looks. Imagine if she became your wife. She might secretly have affairs like those. It's a good thing that we saw her true colors before we arranged a wedding."

She removed her hand from my face and flashed a dignified smile.

"You deserve someone better. You don't need useless vermins like them in your life."

She’s right. Those two aren’t even worth the energy to stress with. It’s been years, and yet my anger still exists. I didn’t have feelings for Adrienne, but I lost a knight that I treated like a friend. Their actions also brought shame upon me, as rumors spread both within and outside the palace, tarnishing my reputation.

I can’t allow that to happen again.

“I came here to tell you that you must find a suitable lady fitting to become crown princess and eventually become the next empress. That's why you need to rise as the new emperor. But seeing you acting like this, I'd say that you're being childish,” she paused, and looked at me intently as if trying to see through my soul.

“You can't be an emperor if you'll drown yourself in alcohol whenever you're upset. You have to be strong, my dear son. With our tradition of getting an empress among the House Chavalleve or House Ashleigh and an emperor from the Ruivenfiere’s, you have three potential options left. Anastasia, Cherlindrea, or Kathrynne Chavalleve. If not, find anyone among the red diamond Izavenes.”

I rested my elbow on my thigh and ran my fingers through my hair, hanging my head, and I groaned as I feel my head about to crack.

She brought this up once again, and I can’t believe that she’s doing that now at this time of night. I hardly have the energy to give it some thought.

If I were to marry someone, I'd prefer that it's because I love her, and not because of the tradition of maintaining the royal bloodline – for Chavalleve, Ashleigh, and Ruivenfiere's are the last families who are Izavenes born with a red diamond ring – the most powerful gem among the Izavenes.

"If you want to be with someone you love, she can be your concubine. But your son or daughter from the concubine can never become the emperor or empress. Look at the second prince, Hervouet. He's a son of your father's concubine, and all he can do is watch you as you become the emperor. He'll keep having prince as his title 'til he breathes his last."

“Kathrynne and I were friends during our childhood, but …” I don’t want her to be the empress. That’s what I want to say, but I couldn’t.

“Let’s drop the topic. I want to rest. My head feels like it’s going to crack.” I stood up and walked away from her, heading to my bed.

"I must admit, it is quite impressive," she chuckled, as if finding amusement in my words. "But how can you find rest knowing that you have not yet carried out the punishment I ordered? Once again, you are showing too much mercy. I cannot tolerate the presence of rats in my domain, which is why I insist on swift and decisive action." she sighed and her facial expression became blank.

“That’s why you have to remove the memories of the traitor’s family who will be executed tomorrow. Well then, if that makes myself clear, then I shall take my leave. Have a good night.”

──•~❉᯽❉~•──

The morning sunlight streamed through the window, momentarily blinding me as I woke up. It was a peaceful start to the day, despite the weighty task that lay ahead: delivering punishment in the most merciful manner possible. Treason had been committed, a grave offense that warranted severe consequences, extending even to the traitor's family, as if to sever the tainted bloodline.

With a heavy heart, I got out of bed and changed into suitable attire before making my way towards the dungeon. Each step felt burdensome, as I grappled with the responsibility of meting out justice.

However, I had made an effort to mitigate the severity of the punishment by instructing the empress not to carry out executions, opting instead for a punishment that would inflict a morbid and agonizing death upon the criminal.

"In which cell is Althea Villon being held?" I inquired, my tone grave. The guard, taken aback by my presence, quickly bowed to acknowledge me.

"Greetings, Your Highness! May infinite glory be with you and the Ruivenfiere Empire," he greeted respectfully. "Allow me to guide you to the prison cell, Your Highness."

I followed the guard as he led me to a cold and desolate cell. Inside, a woman with shackled hands and eyes filled with despair awaited. The clinking of her shackles echoed through the air as she heard our approach. Her eyes reflected immense pain, evoking a deep sense of pity within me as I observed her weakened and drained state.

"What kind of Izavene are you?" I asked, studying the prisoner intently.

"I am a Moissanite Izavene, Your Highness," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Moissanite, I thought to myself. That meant her power lay in Edhelraen, the ability to heal others and herself. I couldn't fathom why she was shackled. After all, she possessed no means of escape or causing harm.

"Unlock the cell and release her from her shackles," I commanded, my voice carrying authority.

The guard seemed taken aback by my order. "Pardon?" he reacted, clearly surprised.

"Are you deaf? I won't repeat myself. The empress has instructed me to remove her memories. Once that is done, she will have her life back," I explained firmly.

Without hesitation, the guard unlocked the cell and removed the woman's shackles. I entered the cell while instructing the guard to remain outside.

Before he left, I turned to address him, expressing my dissatisfaction with his emotional display.

"You cannot fulfill your duties as an imperial guard if you cannot control your emotions. It is evident on your face. You must learn to refrain from such behavior. Now, leave us. I will take care of this," I scolded him.

The guard, clearly embarrassed, avoided my gaze, bowed, and left the cell.

I noticed the woman’s wrists healing themselves as soon as the shackles were removed. "I see your wrists are healing on their own," I commented, observing the bruises and wounds fading away. "As you may already know, your husband is scheduled for execution today. You probably heard the reasons for my presence earlier."

The woman knelt before me; her face lowered to the ground. She looked up, tears streaming down her face, as she rubbed her palms together.

I listened to her plea, her words filled with desperation and sorrow. Her request for mercy tugged at my heart, as I could sense the depth of her love and connection to her husband.

"I understand the bond you shared with your husband, the years of companionship and love you have experienced together," I responded, my voice filled with empathy. "He may have committed treason, but I can see the pain in your eyes, the longing for the memories you hold dear."

I paused for a moment, contemplating her words. Memories, painful as they may be, are an integral part of our identity and the fabric of our lives. Removing them would undoubtedly leave a void, a sense of incompleteness.

"I hear your plea, and I acknowledge the significance of the memories he has given you," I continued, my tone softening. "I will speak to the empress on your behalf, to see if there is a possibility of leniency. I cannot promise anything, but I will do what I can to preserve the memories that mean so much to you."

I reached out and gently touched her shoulder, offering a small gesture of comfort. "Please understand that the decision ultimately lies with the empress, but I will advocate for your request. Stay strong, and remember that even in the face of adversity, our memories can provide solace and strength."

She nodded, tears still streaming down her face, but a glimmer of hope shining in her eyes.

I was taken aback by her assumption that I saw her as a tyrant, but I understood where her perception might have come from. The empress's reputation preceded her, and it was not one of benevolence or mercy. However, I couldn't deny that her words struck a chord within me.

I glanced around, ensuring that no one else was within earshot, before responding in a hushed tone. "No, it's not because of the empress's reputation. It's because I see the pain in your eyes, the love you have for your husband, and the strength you possess despite the circumstances."

I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. "I understand the weight of your request, and I believe there is another way. Instead of removing your memories, I will arrange for you to be taken to your home. You will fall asleep, and when you wake up, you will be in familiar surroundings, surrounded by the comfort of your own memories."

Her eyes lit up with hope, and a smile graced her face, tears of gratitude shimmering in her eyes. "Thank you, Your Highness. Your kindness and compassion are truly a blessing. May all the blessings be upon you for the rest of your life."

I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief and satisfaction in granting her this small reprieve. It was a reminder that even in the midst of darkness, there was still room for compassion and understanding.

“Now, close your eyes.” She followed my order while still kneeling, and I put my hand on

her closed eyes. I gathered my power that coursed through my left hand, lighting up the entire

cell as I unleashed it. A couple of seconds later, the cell returned to its original darkness, with the woman losing her consciousness and the memory of our conversation removed.