Amidst the lush garden of the royal palace, where flowers bloomed in a vibrant tapestry of colors, Emeric Dracovic, the great duke of the empire, was serenely seated. The environment was an oasis of tranquility and comfort.

He was settled in an elegant dark wood chair positioned near a delicately ornamented table. On the table, a steaming cup of tea rested beside a plate with a piece of white cake, its soft and creamy layers as delicate as the rose petals surrounding the garden.

His black hair, with streaks of white, was slightly damp from a good morning bath. Emeric's dark eyes reflected the soft sunlight now filtering through the clouds.

Emeric savored the tea, its steam rising in delicate spirals. The cake, rich in flavor and texture, offered a sweet relief to an old man who had not tasted flavor in his life for a long time. "Today will be different," he thought to himself.

The garden around was a spectacle in itself. Flowers of every imaginable color - vibrant reds, bright yellows, deep blues, and purples. As Emeric Dracovic savored the last sip of his tea, his dark, contemplative eyes caught a movement in the distance. Looking beyond the floral splendor of the garden, he noticed someone approaching.

Thaddeus Nyx Lancaster from the north, a man of notable presence, walked casually through the garden. In one hand, he held an ancient-looking pipe made from some old wood. In the other, a box of matches, accompanied by the characteristic aroma of his favorite tobacco.

Thaddeus's clothes were intriguing, especially for an imperial prince. Although clearly made from high-quality fabrics, they bore an air of neglect, being dirty or crumpled. "Judging only by his appearance, he looks more like a beggar in noble's clothes," thought Emeric. As Thaddeus approached, the duke could smell a strong scent of alcohol and tobacco.

"Prince Thaddeus, I didn't think I'd find you so early," said Emeric. "I haven't even had time to finish my breakfast."

The old man then pulled up a chair and sat in front of the duke. "So... What do you have to say about yesterday?" Thaddeus lit his pipe. "Did you ask about Damian Callahad?"

"Yes... yes, I asked," the duke took a sip of his tea. "Your plan is going to cost me a fortune. I hope it bears fruit."

"And it will," said Thaddeus. "Or rather, it already is. Now it will be easier to recover Leonora."

The duke then watched the prince smoke from his pipe. "I hope you're not lying to me," Emeric locked eyes with him. "Don't think I'm not willing to start a fight over this."

"Emeric, come on, do you really think I'd cheat you?" asked Thaddeus. "After so many years? It would have been more useful to have let you die in your ventures if I wished you any harm."

"All right..." said the duke before eating a piece of his cake. "But what now? What's the next step?"

"You will receive an unexpected visit today, and he will propose something to you," Thaddeus smoked his pipe. "Be prepared to make the right choice because the future of your goals depends on it."

"Thaddeus, Thaddeus..." said Emeric. "Can't you be less enigmatic? You weren't like this before."

"I guess age is finally catching up, Emeric," the old man then stood up. "Every day that goes by, I feel the strength of this body waning. I don't feel I have much more time."

"That makes your riddles even more irrational, you realize that, don't you?" asked Emeric. "You should be more objective and more direct if you have so little time."

"Maybe it's dementia," said Thaddeus. "I never took care of my body or mind, but I think I'll start taking precautions. I wouldn't like to die before fulfilling the agreements I have with you."

"Look, Thaddeus, you shouldn't think you'll die so soon," said Emeric. "If you accept that death will seek you out, your mind will make your body weaker."

"The end comes for everyone, Emeric; I'm just tired of pretending that mine is far away," Thaddeus begins to leave. "I'll go home now; I'll leave the capital, but I recommend you stay. There's a lot here for you."

The duke then just watched his old friend leave. Emeric Dracovic remained seated for a moment; the duke turned his attention back to the still steaming cup of tea. With a calm gesture, he brought the cup to his lips, savoring the last sip of the warm and aromatic liquid. The tea, a perfect blend of flavor and fragrance, seemed to please his tastes.

Beside the cup, the piece of white cake now almost finished awaited. Emeric delicately picked up the fork and cut the last piece of the cake, whose flavor helped to fill a bit of the emptiness he felt in his chest.

Finishing his tea and cake, Emeric placed the empty cup and plate on the table. He then slowly stood up, adjusting his cape that fell down his back. His gaze swept the garden once more.

With an almost imperceptible sigh, Emeric adjusted his posture. The duke, now standing, headed towards the exit of the place. After leaving the garden, Emeric Dracovic, with calm and slow steps, entered the grand royal palace. The massive wooden doors opened to reveal the imposing corridors adorned with rich tapestries and artworks that told the history of the empire. The soft light filtering through the high windows bathed the corridors in golden tones.

As he walked, the duke passed by guards and servants, each stopping to offer a respectful bow. Emeric nodded with a subtle gesture, but that single gesture alone.

The echoes of his steps resonated in the marble corridors, setting the rhythm of his walk to the Tower of the Great Guests. This part of the palace, reserved for dignitaries and high-ranking visitors, mainly great dukes and princes, was known for its splendid architecture and luxurious accommodations.

Upon reaching the base of the tower, Emeric was greeted by a servant who led him upstairs. The ascent gradually revealed a panoramic view of the capital through the narrow windows, showing the incessant movement of the city and the vastness of his empire.

"Anton, has anyone left my quarters?" asked Emeric.

"If you're talking about your children, Your Majesty, no," replied Anton. "They are still in their room."

Upon reaching the top of the tower, he found himself in front of a richly decorated door guarded by two soldiers. With a nod, Emeric signaled that he wished to enter. The guards opened the doors without hesitation, revealing the luxurious suite intended for the empire's most revered guests.

Inside the suite, the decoration was exquisite, with carved wooden furniture and fine fabrics adorning the walls and bed. The sunlight, now higher in the sky, poured through the windows. Emeric entered the room, closing the door behind him.

"Nikolai! Mariyana!" the duke shouted before grabbing a bottle of wine and three glasses.

After their father's call, Mariyana and Nikolai entered the room, embodying a presence reflective of his. Emerging from the shadow of the spiral staircase, coming from a room, Mariyana led the way, gliding through the room with an ethereal lightness. Her blonde hair, a luminous cascade inherited from her mother, framed her delicate face where dark eyes sparkled. Her sky-blue dress, enhancing her gentle features, flowed with each movement, reflecting a maturity beyond her years. Mariyana was a blend of curiosity and wisdom, her father always told her she had an "old soul."

Nikolai, closely following, mirrored a young Emeric. His black hair was neatly arranged, showing respect for tradition with a nod to the modern. His blue eyes were like sapphires. His salmon-colored attire was formal and well-fitted.

"Father, why have you called us?" Nikolai asked, curious, descending the stairs.

"I need to speak with you both, come here quickly," Emeric said, his face showing seriousness. "I spoke with an old friend today, and I sensed insecurity in his words." Emeric looked his son in the eyes, now sitting in front of him. "Nikolai, I need you to return to Dracóvia with your sister and protect her there."

"Are you serious, father?" Mariyana asked, placing her hands over her heart.

"No Mariyana, he's joking," Nikolai said. "There's no reason for us not to be safe."

"But you are not," Emeric said. "Be smart, Nikolai, a duke was nearly assassinated yesterday along with his daughter at the palace door. Do you think the same can't happen to us?" Emeric asked, answering before his son could. "It won't because I won't allow it. You will return home and stay there while your father deals with problems here."

"I am already fourteen years old, father," Nikolai said, puffing up his chest. "I can protect my sister. It doesn't matter where we are, whether here or in the capital."

"And protect her how, you foolish boy?" Emeric asked with anger in his voice. "There's no reason for you to stay here; this is not a discussion. I am ordering you to go back."

"Father... You can't do this," Nikolai began to clench his fists.

Before the son could continue, his sister grabbed his arm. "Nikolai, stop..." she whispered. "Please stop..." Mariyana looked into his eyes, pleading softly.

Emeric called for Matilde, an elderly lady who had served him for over thirty years. Her hair was white, her skin wrinkled with various scars from removed warts. Her smile lacked teeth, but her breath was acceptable.

"Please pack their bags; they will leave for home today," Emeric said with a stoic face.

"As you wish, father," Nikolai said, standing up and ascending the stairs.

Mariyana looked at Emeric. "Father..." was all she said before following her brother upstairs.

Emeric began to massage his temples. "Matilde, before you go, bring me the bottle of the strongest drink you have."

The old servant agreed before fetching a bottle of vodka from the cabinet along with an appropriate glass. The duke simply opened the bottle placed in front of him and took a deep gulp. The burning sensation entered his mouth and traveled down his throat, burning, but he was a man accustomed to this pain and bitterness in his mouth.

"Matilde..." Emeric said, struggling. "Please, put the vinyl on."

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

"Yes, my lord," the old lady said, approaching the device to turn it on.

Classical music began to play, the sound of violins, piano keys, wind instruments, and much more could be heard echoing through the two floors of the room. Emeric adjusted himself on the large and comfortable couch to continue drinking in peace.

"That foolish boy..." he thought. "Does he really think he's some kind of 'superman'?" Emeric's mind throbbed with the stresses of his day.

As the servant was about to leave, Emeric called her back. "Matilde, tell me... Am I a bad father?" His eyes locked with the elderly woman's.

"My lord, the young masters have never lacked for anything, but I feel they disapprove of not sharing your current goals with them," the lady's trembling and hoarse voice could barely be heard over the music.

"I see... That's what I thought," Emeric said, taking another deep gulp from the bottle and closing his eyes.

The world had changed, some people were alive to witness it. Emeric was with his six older siblings: Aleksandr, Ivan, Svetlana, Galina, Vadim, Anastasia, by his side. In the vast green fields of his homeland, the summer heat warmed his skin like a warm embrace.

The peasants plowed the fields as everyone watched them. From the horizon, a noise came. Music followed by gears and engines.

"Emeric, are you prepared for what is to come?" Aleksandr, the oldest of all siblings and heir to the heart of the lands, asked, his red hair waving in the wind.

"What do you mean, brother? What is to come?" Emeric, just a child now, asked, looking at his brother. "I hope I can be like him when I grow up."

"The revolution, Emeric, the revolution is coming," Aleksandr looked at the peasants, working, sweating. "The machines will come, and with them, things will change forever. When I was born, there were no trains in the world, and now our father is trying to build the first railways." The older brother leaned on the marble edge of the view from his mansion. "The world your children will live in will be very different from anything you've ever seen."

The ticking of the clock could be heard but not the singing of the instruments, Emeric had a headache, and a half-empty bottle in his hands. The duke rubbed his face, still tasting the strong alcohol in his mouth. Looking out the window, the sun was setting. "How many hours have I slept?"

The man then got up, his cape falling down his back, and began to climb the stairs slowly, holding onto the railing. "Have Nikolai and Mariyana already left?" the father wondered. His head throbbed, his mouth tasted horrible. Upon reaching the door, Emeric opened it.

Nikolai and Mariyana were sitting on the edge of the bed, wrapped in a comforting embrace. The light of the setting sun that infiltrated through the curtains cast a golden glow on them. Nikolai, with his usual seriousness, showed a rare tenderness, with a protective arm around Mariyana's shoulders. The young woman, with her hair illuminated by the last ray of sun, rested her head on her brother's shoulder, her eyes closed in an expression of peace and contentment.

Emeric stood at the door, observing the scene. There was an air of mutual consolation, as if they were sharing an understanding silence, each finding comfort in the other's presence. For a moment, the duke felt a tightness in his heart, a mix of relief

"Nikolai, Mariyana," the duke calls out to them. "Are your bags packed?"

"Yes, we are, father," says Nikolai, not looking directly at him, but Emeric notices anger.

"Alright, I will call your car now then," Emeric simply closes the door behind him.

Emeric, still with the bottle in hand, leaves his children's room and walks through the quiet corridors of his mansion. The dusk light, now no longer present, ceases to touch the walls adorned with tapestries and portraits of the royal family's ancestors. His walk is firm, but there's hesitation in every step. The duke opens the entrance door, giving a view of two guards.

"One of you call six more guards and get a car to escort my children home," says Emeric.

"At home, do you mean Dracovia, my lord?" asks the soldier on the right.

"Yes," the duke responds before closing the door.

After giving instructions to the guards, Emeric returns to the warmth of the inside. With a deep sigh that seems to carry the burden of countless worries and exhaustion, he collapses on the sofa. The large and comfortable furniture is a familiar refuge.

He places the bottle on the coffee table, a soft sound resonating in the silence of the room. Looking around, the darkness of night was beginning to settle, and shadows danced on the walls. With a tired gesture, he calls for Matilde.

"Matilde, please bring me something to eat," his voice, though firm, carries a tone of exhaustion.

The old servant, always attentive and efficient, responds promptly. "Right away, my lord. Any preference?"

"No, anything is fine. Just something light," Emeric responds, closing his eyes for a moment, trying to ward off the headache that insisted on pounding in his temples.

Matilde nods and withdraws, leaving Emeric alone with his thoughts. He reclines, his eyes fixed on the ceiling while the sound of silence filled the place, a solitary company for a man.

Minutes pass until Matilde returns, bringing a simple dish of fish and oil but well-prepared, with a glass of wine. Emeric thanks her with a nod of his head and begins to eat.

Emeric begins to savor the dish brought by Matilde. The fish, skillfully prepared, easily falls apart under the touch of the fork, while the gentle aroma of the oil complements the delicate flavor. He takes a bite, feeling the contrast of the fresh fish with the wine, which brings a fruity flavor and smoothness.

The duke allows himself a moment of appreciation for the meal, his thoughts drifting away from the matters that troubled him. The glass of wine in his hand shines under the room light, its edges capturing the reflections of the lamps. He takes a sip, feeling the wine flow down his throat, bringing warmth to his chest.

Matilde, noticing her lord preferred to be alone, withdraws quietly, leaving him in peace with his thoughts. As he finishes his meal, Emeric hears the sound of approaching footsteps. The duke then gets up and attends to the door to the soldiers.

"Men, form up," says Emeric loudly and clearly as he waits for them to line up. "I want to be clear about your mission and your work now so that there are no doubts, mistakes, or failures." The duke then walks back and forth, observing the guards. "Your goal today is to safely escort Nikolai and Mariyana, my two children, to Dracovia. There will be a car waiting for you downstairs." The duke then stops face to face with the highest-ranking soldier. "I hope you understand that any harm that befalls either of them will be reciprocated twofold on each of you," Emeric concludes. "Any questions?"

"No, my lord!" they all say in unison.

Nikolai opens the door of his room, his face marked by an expression of stoicism. He carries a heavy suitcase in each hand, one of them clearly belonging to his sister Mariyana. With a nod of his head, he signals for her to follow him, carrying a small bag of personal items.

The room echoes with the sound of Nikolai's firm steps descending the stairs. Each step seems to resonate and hammer in Emeric's head as Mariyana follows him silently, a mixed expression of sadness and defiance.

As they reach the base of the stairs, the dim light of the lamps illuminates their path to the main door. Nikolai, with his head held high and shoulders tense, walks towards the military. Mariyana, although more reserved, maintains a firm look towards her father.

"Father, we are leaving now," says Nikolai. "As you wished."

"When I return to Dracovia, we will talk about what I want from you," Emeric locks eyes with his son.

Nikolai, maintaining his firm and determined posture, nods slightly in acknowledgment of his father's words but says nothing more. He turns, leading the way towards the door. His steps are closely followed by the soldiers, whose gazes focus on the young man.

Mariyana remains there, standing, looking at Emeric as everyone leaves. "Do you really want us to leave?"

"Yes, you are too young to understand," the duke then just directs his attention to his daughter, puts his hand on her shoulder, and continues. "When you marry and have your children, you will understand." Emeric just continues his step up to his room, climbing the stairs.

Upon reaching his room, he finds himself in front of the double bed. Without bothering to change clothes, Emeric lies down on the bed with the day's clothes still on his body. His gaze is lost on the ceiling as the exhaustion of the day and the weight of his responsibilities begin to take over him.

The large and comfortable bed now seems excessively spacious and empty. The duke feels the coolness of the sheets against his skin. The duke remains motionless in the dark for a few moments while reflecting until he decides to get up and start trying to draw on the sheets of a notebook the face of a girl.

Her lips were thin and beautiful, her face was thin, her neck was thin. The wavy hair fell down both sides of her face to behind her body. The duke's gaze was one of pure pain before tearing the page and keeping the well-made drawing in his pocket.

Hours pass as Emeric just waits for the words of Thaddeus to come true. "Who will visit me today?" the hours pass, and the questions become "When will this person come?"

Hours pass in the silence of the room, Emeric now tries to watch the time pass by looking at the clouds in the sky during the night. The duke did not know how long he had waited or how long his mind had wandered, and it mattered little to him until someone knocked on his door.

Matilde enters the room. "My lord, the great Duke Arkady Kolovsky is at the door. He says he wants to talk to you."

"Let him in and receive him. Inform him I am in this room," says Emeric, who gets up from the chair in front of the window and leans against the wardrobe next to him.

A few moments of silence pass while Duke Emeric awaits the arrival of his visitor. He was impatient, not knowing exactly what time it was, but he was sure it was close to midnight. Someone knocks on the door.

"Please come in," says Emeric.

Duke Arkady Kolovsky enters the room. His face is marked by expression lines that are easily noticeable. His deep, captivating blue eyes draw attention away from his distinctive mustache and well-trimmed goatee. Although he is in his forties, his posture and slicked-back hair give him a timeless elegance.

Dressed formally, Arkady wears a tailored suit that fits perfectly to his robust physique. The dark-colored suit of high-quality fabric is complemented by a discreet vest that adds a touch of sophistication to his appearance. His immaculate white shirt is highlighted by a carefully chosen thin tie that matches the ensemble. The discreet yet elegant cufflinks bear the symbol of his family, black ravens.

"Lord Emeric Dracovic, I have matters I would like to discuss with you," says Arkady, opening a slight smile as he closes the door. "It's a beautiful night, isn't it?"

"Yes, Arkady," says Emeric, approaching to greet him with a handshake. "Please feel free to sit down or ask me for anything."

"Emeric, are you in a hurry for our conversation?"

"Yes, it's almost time for me to sleep," the duke then passes his hand over his face. "Age comes, and my body yields more and more to it. If you want, I can drink alone without passing out or waking up well."

"It's the wrong time to start aging. I discovered something new that can make us more powerful than the emperor himself," Arkady takes care with his words, whispering them. "Let's speak softly about this and be careful. Walls have ears, and windows have eyes..." The great duke walks to the window. "However, I think it's difficult for anyone to see anything from here."

"I am sure it is impossible for us to be overheard here," Emeric approaches Arkady. "Come on, tell me what your visit is about?"

"I imagine you must have heard of the land of the giants," Arkady then strokes his goatee.

"That children's story about another continent?" "A magical land where giant creatures dwell, people have spoken of this place since thirteen hundred," thought Emeric.

"Yes, that very one," says Arkady. "The place where all great explorers want to set their feet to be the first to obtain unimaginable riches beyond the comprehension of science and man." The duke then strokes his mustache. "It's a pity such a place doesn't exist..." The duke pauses briefly. "Or at least that's what was believed."

"What do you mean by that?" asks Emeric, confused. "It's just a children's story, there's nothing to believe or not."

"Then keep secret what I am about to tell you because I feel I will need capable people for my... ventures," says Arkady, taking a dark and subversive tone to his voice. "A few years ago, in one of the mines of my duchy, the soldiers working there with the prisoners reported finding what appeared to be the ruins of an unknown ancient civilization beneath the earth."

"Which civilization?" Emeric asked. "Did you eventually find out?"

"Yes... yes," Arkady fiddles with his mustache. "I sent two historians there, a father and his daughter. Normally I don't trust women doing men's work, but as the father was with her, I felt no problem in paying them both for it." The duke lets out a light laugh. "After just over a month, I received the news that not only was it an elven ruin from the time of the first empire, but there was still more to be explored."

"So you need my help to finish exploring it?" asks Emeric.

"Please let me finish," responds Arkady, unable to hide the excitement in his voice about what is to come. "I sent a few battalions of men to enter. There were not many dangers; the place seemed completely abandoned according to those who saw it, but that did not stop them from finding something more valuable than all their miserable lives combined." Arkady locks his gaze with Emeric's. "I found a map."

"A map? To where?" Emeric asks, curious about Arkady's words.

"To the land of the giants. The map is on its way to the capital because here I know someone capable of deciphering it."

"That seems very risky, Arkady. If what you say is true, bringing something so valuable across more than half a continent, no matter the means, is risky."

"Do you think I don't know that?" asks Arkady. "That's why I'masking for your help. The linguist I'm after told me that anything he should translate needs to be brought to him, or his techniques wouldn't work." The duke seems resentful of this. "With our financial, political, and industrial capabilities, we will be able to form an expedition and thus become more powerful than the emperor himself."

Emeric could only think of the words Thaddeus told him earlier: "Be prepared to make the right choice because the future of your goals depends on it." "Alright, let's meet with this linguist as soon as the map arrives."