Time:
Late Night
Age: Elira – 6 years, Kael – 3
years
The Emperor stood alone on the balcony of his
private study.
Below him stretched the Inner Palace—quiet,
orderly, unchanged. Lanterns glowed softly along stone paths that had witnessed
generations of imperial children grow, compete, and fall.
Yet one child had slipped through unnoticed.
On the table behind him lay a thin report, its
contents brief and precise.
Second Princess Elira. Daughter of the Emperor. Age six. Current status:
acknowledged but restricted.
He had already memorized the words.
When the door opened, he did not turn.
"You have spoken with her," he said calmly.
"Yes," replied the Empress Dowager, his mother, stepping inside. "She
listened well."
The Emperor closed his eyes for a moment.
"Listening is something she learned without being taught."
His mother did not deny it.
"You allowed her to be unseen," she said
evenly. "I merely decided what to do once she was noticed."
He turned to face her. "She is still my daughter."
"And you are still the Emperor," the Empress
Dowager replied. "Those truths often oppose each other."
Silence settled between them.
"At the training garden," he said quietly, "I
saw two small figures practicing sword forms meant for much older children."
His hand tightened slightly. "I recognized the
boy. I did not recognize the girl."
The Empress Dowager watched him carefully.
"Because you never looked for her."
He did not argue.
"She bowed like a courtier," he continued. "Not like a child who expects
protection."
For the first time that night, regret surfaced
openly in his eyes.
"I believed that keeping her invisible would
spare her," he said. "No factions. No expectations."
"And no protection," his mother replied. "In
the imperial family, invisibility is only safety until someone notices the
gap."
He turned away.
"What you decided," he said, "binds her
future."
"Yes," the Empress Dowager answered calmly.
"But it keeps her alive."
He looked back at her sharply.
"You will educate her," he said. "You will
observe her. But she is not to be used as a tool."
The Empress Dowager's gaze was steady. "Then
raise her yourself."
The words struck deeper than accusation.
After a moment, he asked, "And the boy?"
"Kael," she said. "Her younger brother. Your
son as well."
The Emperor frowned. "He is young."
"And already dangerous," she replied. "He sees
patterns. He asks why."
The Emperor exhaled slowly. "Just like I once
did."
"That is why he must remain close to her," the Empress Dowager said.
"Together, they are cautious. Apart, they would be unpredictable."
He returned to the table and sat, looking
again at the report.
Visible
enough to exist. Limited enough to endure.
He closed it.
"I will not erase her," he said firmly. "Nor
will I elevate her."
The Empress Dowager nodded. "Then you choose
the narrow path."
"Yes," he replied. "And I will watch it
closely."
As his mother turned to leave, she paused.
"Watching is not the same as protecting,"
she said. "Do not confuse the two again."
When she was gone, the Emperor remained seated
in silence.
For the first time, he allowed himself to
wonder—not what the empire demanded of him—
But what kind of future a child might build
when she learns early that survival depends on restraint.
And whether the daughter he ignored would one
day seek only safety…
Or something the empire would not be ready to
give.