"Your magic class has been canceled for today, Your Highness," Miyuki announced calmly, her voice carrying the same composed demeanor as always as she entered the room with a polite bow. With practiced ease, she began to swing open the grand windows, allowing the sunlight to flood the room.

Closing the book on magic cradled in her freshly bandaged hands, Charlotte stretched her sore muscles, sinking into the plush sofa.

Barely two weeks had passed since she took up residence here, yet the relentless pace of each day made it seem as though a month had slipped away. Though it was her decision to dive into lessons immediately, the rigorous training and relentless instruction proved to be more exhausting than she had anticipated.

Despite Charlotte's customary confidence in her extraordinary stamina and strength, which surpassed that of ordinary folk, this endeavor proved to be a formidable challenge.

As Miyuki exited the room with a polite bow, Charlotte suddenly rose from her seat, feeling a wave of dizziness wash over her. With unsteady steps, she made her way to the expanse of her bed and collapsed face-first onto its welcoming surface.

Turning her gaze towards the window, Charlotte's blurry vision focused on the serene scene outside.

Blue sky, bluish green trees with blue flowers and a blue bird perched on the branch.

Everything blue, as blue as her mood.

Charlotte's curriculum spanned a vast array of subjects, ranging from literature and history to politics, aristocratic and commoner hierarchies, etiquette, combat, swordplay, magic, ballroom dance, and beyond. It was nothing short of remarkable how each class was condensed into a single day, earning Charlotte praises for her unwavering commitment to the rigorous schedule.

As bone-breakingly exhausting as it was, it wasn't something Charlotte couldn't do. She lost count of the numerous nosebleeds endured over the past two weeks.

Given the utmost confidentiality surrounding her, irrespective of capability and trust, an abundance of caution led to the assignment of only three individuals as her teachers.

Kuro Igarashi, the Grey Knight of the Steely Storms.

Ingrid Pelhamnlet, the Second in Command of The Regal Raptors.

And then, Theodore Kanemoto Ryuujin, The Divine Imperial Majesty of the Golden Royalty himself.

She understood that receiving training directly from the Imperial Majesty himself was considered a divine blessing, a privilege bestowed upon only one before her. The fortunate individual she came to know was Kuro.

Kuro, the Sixth Wing, the youngest and final member to be part of His Majesty's very own elite order.

The Order of the Six Wings.

Over the past two weeks, Charlotte immersed herself in countless books and records, absorbing nearly all the details available to the public. Yet, as a newcomer, she understood that there was still much more to learn beyond what was accessible to the general populace.

It had been approximately 14 years since the current Emperor abruptly ascended to the throne. However, the details surrounding his succession remained elusive, shrouded in mystery and absent from any records.

Certain events eluded the pages of history books, their secrets hidden from the common public and even many among the lower aristocratic nobles remained unaware of what transpired.

As a newcomer to the Golden Royalty, Charlotte found herself thrust into a world secrecy, whether she desired it or not.

It fell upon Kuro, the Emperor's personal aide, to acquaint her with the inner workings of the Golden Royalty's history which was concealed from the view of the lower public.

The reigning Emperor was the third son among the four children of the preceding Emperor.

Theodore, who had rarely delved into Palace politics throughout his nineteen years, unexpectedly rebelled against the Emperor with just six allies at his side, emerging victorious against all odds.

In the aftermath of his triumph, Theodore initiated a merciless purge, cleansing the entire Golden Court and extinguishing all who dared to oppose him.

Theodore, embodying a tyrant devoid of mercy, claimed his seat upon the blood-stained throne, presiding over a grim coronation that reverberated with the chilling echoes of terror within the desolate halls of power.

At his side stood his Golden Six Wings—The Order of the Six Wings.

The throne, now drenched in the crimson tide of his siblings and his own mother, the previous Emperor of the Golden Royalty, bore witness to the brutal culmination of Theodore's ascent to power.

Charlotte found herself in a void of information, with Kuro offering little insight into the past Emperors or the royal lineage of the current ruler of the Golden Court.

Despite the glaring gaps in her knowledge, Charlotte harbored no curiosity for the darker secrets that lay buried beneath the surface. Content with the fragments of information she was provided, she chose to accept what was revealed, at least for the time being.

In the Black Imperial Royalty and Red Imperial Royalty alike, each family boasted two sons. However, Kuro divulged that in the Black Court, only one Prince remained, while in the Red Court, a similar situation unfolded—only one Prince remained, as the other one was a wildcard, residing in exile for nearly a year.

"What kind of Wildcard?" Charlotte had asked during a sword training session.

The appearance of weary and resigned expression upon the normally stoic faces of both Ingrid and Kuro in an instant, served as a sufficient explanation for the time being.

Currently, none of the three Imperial Courts seemed to have an Empress, with all having met untimely deaths. Even if they were present, those who married into royalty rarely held any power; their sole obligation was to produce a healthy heir to the throne.

Turning in her bed, Charlotte propped her chin with both hands, her gaze fixated entirely on the small indigo bird perched motionless on the bluish tree branch near the window.

As if sensing her gaze, the once motionless bird suddenly stirred, its wings fluttering cutely as it gracefully glided into her room, alighting upon the sofa's armrest.

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Tilting its head from side to side, the bird appeared to be making an effort to charm Charlotte with its playful antics.

Slowly rising from the bed, Charlotte retrieved something from the nightstand where numerous untouched sweets lay arranged on a plate, It's details concealed beneath the oversized laced sleeves of her flowy white dress.

Sitting on the floor, Charlotte leaned her head against the sofa's armrest, drawing herself closer to the fearless bird that turned towards her, its curious indigo eyes meeting hers.

With a gentle motion, Charlotte's bare hand approached the bird, a smile gracing her face.

Then, in a sudden, swift movement, like claws of cats closing around prey, Charlotte's slender hand ensnared the bird, leaving only its head protruding through her grasp.

The surprised and suffocated bird emitted distressed sounds, its frantic struggles futile against the firm grip that held it captive.

Abruptly, the bird ceased its movements, and a faint laugh escaped Charlotte's lips.

In the vast sun-kissed room, the new princess of the Golden Court sat, her beautiful dress splayed on the floor. In her slender left hand, she held a small bird so still it seemed lifeless, while her right hand grasped a delicately glinting fork poised near the bird's face.

Her smile never faltering.

*****

"Even with the undeniable power she possesses, the training is overly rigorous for someone who has only just acquired it."

The aged and resonant voice disrupted Theodore's reverie.

Theodore spun on his heel to face the two individuals who had settled themselves comfortably on the sofa in his office, the remark disrupting his gaze on the world beyond the glass wall.

As a result of this unexpected visit, Theodore found himself compelled to cancel Charlotte's magic class for the day.

An elder man fixed his gaze upon Theodore, his lengthy white beard mirroring the color of his aged hair. His long hair tied loosely and secured with a golden ribbon. Draped in robes of tranquil white, adorned with intricate golden embroidery, he held a golden-headed brown cane with a grip that defied his years. His wrinkled visage betrayed a subtle disdain toward Theodore's stern disposition.

Unbeknownst to them, Theodore had suggested lightening the training load. However, Charlotte rejected the notion, viewing the challenge as one she deemed not too strenuous to overcome.

"That child is too young," remarked the woman, clad in scholarly attire of golden brown and ivory, as she adjusted her rectangular, golden-rimmed spectacles.

"To what do I owe the honor of your visit after so long?" Theodore inquired sardonically, his lack of interest evident.

"This brat..." The aged man shook his head slowly, "I've been absent for just under two years to discover that this brat has a new teenage daughter."

The old man's honey-brown eyes shifted to the woman on another sofa, a book as thick as her head cradled in her hand.

"This girl here vanished for almost four years, not a word uttered, and now I find her at the doorstep of this office, greeting me as if we saw each other yesterday," the old man exclaimed, his voice tinged with a mix of disbelief and exasperation.

"I informed Theodore before I left," she declared, nonchalantly flipping open her book and delving into its pages.

"You are too old to dive your nose into books anytime and anywhere even when elders are talking two you."

The old man sighed at the usual antics of the woman, whose face seemed soft and warm, yet her personality remained mostly peculiar, much to his familiarity.

"I just recently reached thirty one. Someone nearing a century should be the last one to tell me about age."

"I'm just seventy-nine!"

"Same thing."

"Does reading books teach you to count wro—"

*CRASH!*

The glass wall emitted a sharp, chilling *SHATTER* as it fractured into a myriad of glass shards, scattering across the floor like icy confetti.

"If this is what you came for here unannounced," Theodore strode towards his main office desk, yanking his heavy chair with force more than necessary, the grating sound echoing through the room as he settled into it.

A faint smile played on his lips, but his blood-red eyes held a warning that was anything but friendly. "Leave."

Alarmed by Theodore's waning patience, the woman snapped her book shut with a sense of urgency, while the old man straightened his hunched back with newfound vigor. In unison, they rose, offering a respectful and apologetic bow. "Our sincere apologies, Your Majesty," they intoned with solemn reverence.

Theodore released a heavy sigh, arms crossing as he reclined in his chair, his eyes shutting against the ache in his head.

As he opened his eyes, Theodore's gaze settled on the two individuals hesitantly settling into their seats across from each other on the sofa before him.

Archibald Reinhardt, his First Wing and Gilma Sousa, his Fourth Wing.

One had been his lifelong mentor, while the other stood as a steadfast friend, both offering unwavering support and loyalty through thick and thin.

The six individuals who fought for him and alongside him before any storms, though not always in constant touch, remained steadfast constants in his life.

Talking about constants, two distinct people came to his mind, prompting a weary sigh to escape his lips once more.

"What did you say!?" The Red Emperor's surprised voice bordered on a scream, resonating with intensity.

He was too old for such a young tone, Theodore thought.

"You are not making sense, Theodore," remarked the Black Emperor, his typically stern expression now marred by rare furrowed brows of consternation.

"It's like I said. I have a daughter. It's just that she..."

The following words that spilled from his lips earned him the most incredulous looks he had ever witnessed on the two faces, a level of disbelief unseen in all the time they had known each other.

The recollection of the meeting with the other two Emperors, following Charlotte's departure to the Empyrean Palace, resurfaced in his mind.

Both Archibald and Gilma exchanged glances.

Despite Theodore's imposing figure, weariness was evident on his face.

These days, Theodore found himself burdened with a workload that seemed to have doubled, as he navigated the ceaseless stream of strategies concerning Charlotte, all the while necessitating additional time carved out for her classes

"You don't intend to tell the other three, it seems," the old man voiced.

"Not yet."

"You wouldn't have told the two of us if we hadn't chanced upon here?"

"Yes."

Archibald sighed, familiar with Theodore's tendency for brevity, a trait he had possessed since childhood, which, at times, felt like too much.

"And what do you intend to do with the child?" The old man's eyes held a serious glint, lines deepening, "She's too young and normal for this world. Can she handle this Court with blood knee-deep?"

Theodore's gaze drifted beyond the now-glassless wall, lost in thought.

Young, yes, but normal....

The brief glimpses of scars he had heard about from Kuro and Ingrid, her peculiar traits, and those aloof eyes of hers...

He couldn't not notice it.

During her classes...no, he had noticed it from their very first meeting, the haunting search in her eyes for something tragic...something destructive.

Her enthralled gaze on those ominous flames, which invariably instilled fear in others as their initial reaction.

The enraptured gleam in her eyes as the blood flowed unstoppably, unleashed by her involuntary burst of strength that shattered the sword handle and drove the naked blade into her unprotected hand during their sword training.

Her words, never quite matching her age...

All her classes proceeded with a rush of utmost vigor. He had permitted the occasional use of a real sword from the second week of sword training, yet each time Charlotte wielded one, she ended up shattering the sword handle and injuring her barely healed hand.

Theodore hadn't yet informed Charlotte, but they were operating on limited time, and he sensed that Charlotte could feel the urgency as well.

For her own safety, she had to endure the rigorous training sessions.

She appeared accustomed to overexerting herself and proved to be a quick learner. However, her control over her powers still had a long way to go.

"Can you protect that child?"

It was Gilma who asked, out of a sudden, drawing Theodore's gaze towards her.

She brushed back her bold brown waves of hair with one hand, while the other deftly pushed up her rectangular spectacles, their glint unsettlingly catching the light.

Theodore felt the weight of her gaze behind those lenses, sharp and penetrating. The calm atmosphere surrounding her now held a strange intensity.

"...I will."

Gilma rose gracefully, bowing respectfully before Theodore. Her gaze lingered on him as she straightened, the gravity of her parting words hanging in the air, "A second of hesitation can cost lives. You taught me that, Theo."

And with that, she vanished into thin air.

The air in the office thickened with silence; the aged figure was the one to fracture the quietude.

"That girl can be peculiar at times. But she wouldn't hold the title of one of your Wings if she wasn't a little twisted."

Archibald rose with a sigh, a paternal expression softening his features as he spoke. "Anytime, anywhere, remember this old man, and I'll be there, Theodore."

Then, he too vanished into the thin air.

".....Thank you," Theodore murmured softly, his words falling on no ears but his own as he remained alone in the quiet room.