“Dear, is that you?”

“Hm? Did I wake you up?”

“It's okay. Most importantly, what troubles you to be awake at such an hour?”

“It's been, what? A century? Almost two, even, since we got married? It's getting awfully suspicious for you to act so cute all of a sudden.”

The man smiled groggily. He sat up in the massive bed within the royal chamber and rubbed his eyes. This motion awakened more fatigue within. He yawned for several seconds, two times in a row.

The Empress halted circling the royal chamber and turned towards the source of the sound. “Tiaran… Dear, you don't have to. If you're that tired, just go to sleep.” the Empress spoke endearingly.

“You need sleep as much as I do,” the Emperor insisted pertinaciously as he ruffled his hair, “whatever it is keeping you up, let me help. Please.”

“Someone needs to run the Kingdom,” she answered, her voice sweeter to the ear than candy is to the taste buds, “who's going to keep things in line if both of us are sleep-deprived?”

“Oh, please,” the Emperor protested playfully, “you say that as if I work even a fraction you do.”

“Perhaps.” She chuckled. “Very well. I'll wait for you if you want to wash your face first.”

“Thank you.”

The Emperor slowly got up from the bed. He managed not to hit his head or any other component of his body, despite practically dragging his feet on the floor from somnolence. He looked like a drunkard man trying to go home in the middle of the night as he flopped around trying to navigate the royal chamber.

He decided to use the royal chamber's restroom so as not to be seen in a stupor. He turned on the sink and splashed water on his face without checking the warmth of the water. He grimaced from the freezing cold water. At the same time, it had a caffeine effect on his body. Opening his eyelids did not feel as challenging as it had a few moments ago.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror. His dark brown hair with an undertone of likewise dark red reached to his nape to his shirt. The front end of his hair reached to his cheeks as it was not combed or tended to after waking up. It was not filthy by any means; it was silk-like soft and pleasant to the touch. It was all over the place, however, like a bush in the wild that has not seen care in its lifespan. His eyes, the colour of blood, stared back at him from the other side of the mirror. His eyes were catatonic. It was almost as if this pair of eyes was a void that the Emperor had stared long enough for it to stare back at him. He had facial hair surrounding his mouth trailing down to his jawline. The beard covered his chin and a portion of his jowl. His facial hair was faint and was regularly shaved to maintain a look of freshness.

The ennui that kept his emotions at bay was overtly present which had made him look older than he truly was. It was public knowledge he was longevous like all Demons. However, unlike the Empress which no one believed when she stated her actual age, he was seemingly more decrepit.

…he was quite agile for his age. But even the four intelligent races judged others based on appearance oftentimes.

The Emperor returned and found his wife staring out the window towards the castle garden. He approached her and stood silently next to her. He put his hand on her shoulder to console her.

“They ran away again.” she said in an aloof manner as she slowly opened her eyes.

“Where to?”

“Where do you think?” the Empress asked. Her smile indicated this was more of a rhetoric than a heartfelt question.

“Dear,” he answered whimsically, “please spare me the teasing. Respectfully.” He paused to scan for a reaction but the Empress’ lips had moved not. “Surely,” he cut to the chase, “that's not all there is to it, is it?”

“And why would you think that?”

“Oh, please…”

“You know I care about them, no matter how I may seem sometimes.”

“Oh, please,” the Emperor said with satire, “I love them, too, but I have known you for long enough to know a small escapade like that would not keep you awake at such a late hour.”

The Empress chuckled. Her face then transitioned into a more thoughtful look as if lost in thought. However, when she spoke, her speech was fluent:

“You're right, Tiaran. I often turn a blind eye to their puerile behaviour. Kids are kids, teens are teens, no matter when or where. But even then, it bothers me.”

“What troubles you?” the Emperor asked. His unease suggested he might have an idea what the answer may be.

“Loyalty or not, I don't blame them for wanting to enjoy their youth. That's why I have turned a blind eye to all their lax and childish attitudes. But this does not change the fact that they are princes of royal blood. They can only run away from responsibility for so long.”

“Dear, if this is about what happened in the council, please… Jimothan probably didn't mean to—”

“Both possibilities are equally nugatory.” The Empress admonished. “If he had meant to insult me, or to belittle me, he should have done so directly. I would have been harsher then and there and made an example out of him. If he had not done it intentionally, that would have been significantly more irritating. After all, it would mean he does not take me seriously enough to heed my berating. It is far more offensive than an open declaration of rebellion.”

“Maybe we should listen to them before jumping to conclusions? As much of a brat Jimothan can be… I think we both know he's scared of you. I don't think he'd try anything like that.”

“But he has.”

“But maybe he hasn't?”

“I didn't know you had such high faith in Jim,” the Empress censured. Emotion was fading from her face.

“It's not Jim specifically,” he attempted to mediate, “In many ways, I agree he can be quite insolent and undeserving of his title. But this isn't about him. This is… it is about our children.”

“We are the royal family, are we not? I would not be surprised if disloyalty is genetic by now.”

The Emperor stared befuddled. He knew what the Empress was referring to, but why bring it up now? Had she still felt guilty after several centuries had passed since then? 

Although he never voiced his exact thoughts, that is what I would assume he was thinking.

“I appreciate your concern for our children, Tiaran. I do. It just proves to show how good of a father you are. But as the father of two princes and a princess, you should know when to be strict.”

“I understand,” he replied, confusion still lingering in his voice, “but, dear, is this really the best way to handle this?”

“If you are suggesting my judgement is erroneous,” the Empress spoke with a death glare at her husband, “I expect valid counterarguments, Tiaran.”

“I do not suggest you erred,” he took it easy, “it is simply my personal view that a nonviolent punishment may better motivate them not to do it again.”

“Like how?” she asked, although she didn't seem too keen about listening.

“For instance, why not ban them from leaving the palace entirely? If you were to enforce it seriously, it would be impossible for them to leave. If they realise how serious you are about it, maybe they will admit their wrongdoings and understand they can't trick you so easily? So they'd come to apologise and seek forgiveness?”

“This world is not so kind and forgiving. And these two in particular grew up in the most unkind place imaginable. What makes you think it will be so easy?”

“I did not say it would be easy. But it is not impossible.”

“Dear, your love for them means nothing if they do not understand how valuable your feelings are.”

“How would they acknowledge we love them in the first place if all they find is misery when they spend time with their parents?”

The Empress’ lips had moved, but no sound came out of it. She turned around and directed her gaze outside towards the garden of the Palace of the Heavens. She was lost in thought for a while. Then, she closed her eyes, and spoke emotionlessly:

“Come. Allow me to tell you what your children are up to.”

He stepped forward and stood next to the Empress. He, too, gazed outside. He gazed at every single flower he could make out from the distance. He tried to find anything peculiar about the bushes. Besides a few ones slightly dishevelled, they all seemed to be in order. Unable to find an answer, “I'm listening,” he said gently.

“Johnathan, he's better than I thought,” she said, “he used an artificial realm to make a wrestling ring for Jim and Bobathan.”

“An artificial realm? Johnathan can do that?”

“I haven't thought of him. I don't think his teachers have, either. It is quite remarkable if he thought himself.”

“And what about the wrestling ring? What does that mean?”

“I woke up with a swirling sensation inside of me,” she explained, “my power being used. My first instinct was to check up on them and I was right. They are using my power for their shenanigans.”

“How?”

“Although Johnathan is knowledgeable, he lacks the Essence to cast proficient spells. That's why he used mine, instead. Because of the eyes I imbued on them.”

“Wait, wait, so are they fighting? What's going on?” the Emperor asked worriedly. 

“It appears so.”

“Are they hurt?”

“I do not think that will be a problem.”

“Then what troubles you?”

“No matter how much I drilled the etiquette of being a prince into his head, the more he denies my teachings and tries to act like a lowly kid that lives in the streets.”

“...”

“I thought Bobathan might be a good example for him. It seems I have been gravely mistaken.”

“Dear… maybe we should keep our people out of this?”

“If they had done something wrong, then they shall face punishment like everyone else. That includes the princes friends, too; although I will admit Bobathan may be innocent because Jim started the fight himself. Not only is he running away from the castle, but he dares to get into a fight." She clicked her tongue. "How supercilious can a child be?”

“So… what do you intend to do?”

“With the first rays of sunshine that appear, I will descend to the city. If they are not back by then, I will drag them back myself.”

“I'm sure they'd get back eventually… why don't we wait?” he chuckled awkwardly. “And when they're back, we'll call them out, and… think of an appropriate punishment to give them?”

“No, Tiaran. That would be out of order,” the Empress said with a commanding voice as she slowly succumbed to her inner thoughts. 

She had spoken so firmly and formally as if delivering her behest to her servants that the Emperor could only guess she had already made up her mind. It was too late to persuade her otherwise.

All that was left was to estimate when the inevitable would happen.

When it would happen, not whether it would happen.

It is inevitable.

Inevitable…

Nothing he could do.

“Poor Johnathan,” the Emperor muttered. That was all he could do by then. He went back to their bed shortly after. 

Neither of them slept until dawn.