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Chapter 8

Ambrose navigated the winding hallways to his destination, fighting back a soft yawn as he mentally prepared for his meeting. There was a time where he had no trouble rising at dawn’s first light, but his more recent habits made this task a bit arduous for him.

He ignored the second glances of the servants he passed, accustomed – or so he told himself – of the stares. Approaching the ornate set of doors, he observed the two guards straightening up at his arrival.

“Sir Ambrose, good morning,” they greeted respectfully, shifting to open the doors for him.

“Gentlemen,” he tilted his head with a smile.

There was no announcement or question of his arrival, allowing him to quietly step inside. With purposeful strides, he came upon the sturdy desk, rapping his knuckles softly against the rich wood.

“Greetings to his majesty, blessings of prosperity to the Emperor.”

He waited silently to be acknowledged, but the soft shuffle of paper punctuated by scratches of writing consistently continued. Another few moments passed, causing Ambrose to clear his throat and repeat his greeting.

Once again he went unacknowledged, causing the man to pout. Raising his fist to his mouth, he let out a series of dramatic and hacking coughs. Emerald eyes snapped up, surprise glinting in them.

“Ambrose? …Have you fallen ill?” Darius questioned, concern in his voice.

“Just the dry air of the morning, your majesty,” Ambrose replied with a smile. “No cause for alarm.”

“Morning?”

Ambrose titled his head at the confused whisper, only now realizing that the Emperor’s clothing was awfully similar to what he had worn when he saw him yesterday – sitting in that exact same seat.

“Your majesty…have you been here since last night?”

The newly appointed head butler winced at the series of cracks that was his answer. The Emperor shifted his neck side to side, release a rather frightening set of sounds. He groaned softly as he stood up, rolling his shoulders backwards and straightening up.

“It seems I have lost track of the time,” Darius stated, glancing out towards the blazing sun creeping upwards in the sky.

Lost…track…is a bit of an understatement… Ambrose thought wryly.

“Nevertheless, what is the status of the task I have assigned you?”

Ambrose fell in step alongside Darius, as he left his office and undoubtedly made his way to his chambers. Servants greeted them respectfully, Darius acknowledging each one on their path.

“The Lady Consort has agreed to my appointment as her head butler,” Ambrose updated, “She requested that we meet this morning. My plans are to visit her just before breakfast.”

“I see,” Darius noted softly. “Where exactly is she located, again?”

Ambrose nearly faltered in his next step, glancing at the Emperor walking alongside him. There was no embarrassment or shame on his face. This man was either too invested in his work, or not invested enough in his life. How could he not know where his own, pregnant too mind you, consort resided?

“She is in the extended section of the Moon Palace.”

Darius slowed down, a thoughtful expression on his face. The Moon Palace itself was a comfortable and regal set of rooms and courtyards. The name was bestowed by the architect at the time, having chosen the specific location because of the placement of the moon during the spring and summer months. During the peak of summer nights, the moon was always visible – spilling an ethereal light into the central courtyard. Its name also indicated its location, as it was an auxiliary floater joined to the main palace – practically on the outskirts, as it was closest to the gates leading out into the capital.

It was smaller than the Empress’s palace, or his own for that matter, however it was befitting a Royal Consort. The extended section was originally planned during his late mother’s time but was never completed due to her death - as well as circumstances following. From what he recalled the condition of the extended section left much to be desired.

“She should be moved into the Moon Palace fully,” Darius thought aloud, knowing Ambrose would dutifully understand. “If need be, have the Department of Household Affair’s assist in the movement. Review her monthly allowance and see if more is required.”

“Yes, your majesty. However…”

Darius stopped a few paces from the doors of his personal chamber. His presence caused a flurry of action, but he paid them no mind; turning to address his hesitant walking partner.

Ambrose had his lips pursed tightly, a furrow between his brows. The Emperor waited patiently for him to speak, knowing him well enough that something was on his mind.

“The Department of Household Affairs is within her majesty, the Empress’s, jurisdiction…”

The head butler once again trailed off, hesitant to finish his thoughts. There were always eyes and ears within the palace. The Emperor titled his head thoughtfully.

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“The Empress will assist in any way – this is also within the jurisdiction of her duties.”

The finality of the statement ended the conversation, Ambrose bowing respectfully as his Emperor swept forward into his chambers. He had lived long enough to understand that often what was left unsaid had more meaning than what was stated.

The Emperor announced amongst servants that it was a part of her duties as Empress to take care of the Lady Consort. Left unsaid was the fact there was no threshold of acceptance if she were to do otherwise. However, things never followed a simple path within the royal family.

Darius had left his faithful servant, focused on getting some rest and preparing to face the new day. The conversation he had with Ambrose held little weight, personally. Just as he was aware of the Empress’s duties, he was even more aware of his own.

The single night he had spent with the Lady Consort had almost eluded him. Amongst the many events that were happening at the time, that fateful night was a hazy memory to him. If not for her appearance at morning court the day prior, he would have continued with no thoughts about her. However, her appearance – and subsequent revelation of pregnancy – made him note another responsibility he must shoulder.

His heir apparent was the crown prince, but now he had the potential for another. His late father’s planning was coming to fruition – the concern of the bloodline being in jeopardy would decrease with the birth of this next child. It was his responsibility to aid the Lady Consort in fulfilling her role and duty in successfully giving birth.

He sank into his prepared bath, allowing the heat of the water to seep into his body. Tilting his head back, he watched the lazy streams of steam waft upwards. Despite the leisure of the environment, his mind continued to go over his work.

What work he had finished. What work he must do.

As it had always been – to fulfill his duty as an Emperor.

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Calista stared at her reflection, a frown tugging on her lips. Her skin looked dull, and smudges of blue were faintly visible under her eyes. The chatter of her ladies – in – waiting was grating on her ears, but she ignored it.

“Your majesty, you must take more care in your health,” the one doing her hair chided, soft hands expertly weaving the string of jewels within her golden strands.

She acknowledged the comment with a soft hum. There was a soft clink as a tray was set next to her, a hand offering a cup of hot tea coming into sight. She took the tea, grateful for the warmth as she sipped it with her eyes closed.

The morning ritual of preparing the Empress was also a time for socializing and gossip amongst the women. Shocked gaps and high-pitched giggles punctuated the air. Normally Calista would not mind, but this morning it felt amplified. When they suddenly quieted, she was grateful. However, the sudden pause of movement within her hair had her opening her eyes.

Her gaze met the quiet countenance of the one who stopped working on her hair, and she shifted to see the ladies behind her also quiet. Gesturing with her eyes, she commanded to have final touches to her hair placed. Standing gracefully, she turned and walked towards the seating area occupied by her ladies in waiting. They all carefully watched her, and Calista felt a thread of irritation at being scrutinized.

“What has happened to damper our spirits?”

Eyes shifted around, urging someone amongst them to speak up. A small mousey voice finally spoke up hesitantly, flinching when the Empress’s naturally icy sea foam eyes landed on her.

“Your majesty…the Department of Household Affair’s has sent a servant to inform your majesty of some changes.”

The women amongst her seemed to know what the changes were, but none were willing to speak up.

Calista arched a brow, gesturing to have the individual admitted. A smart looking young man strode in, executing a flawless greeting. The Empress took a seat, raising her teacup and staring at him thoughtfully over the rim.

The servant ignored the quiet atmosphere, addressing the Empress as if she were the only one there.

“I have been sent to inform your majesty, that his majesty – the Emperor – has ordered that the Lady Consort is to be moved into the Moon Palace at earliest convenience. Sir Ambrose has been assigned as her head butler, on behalf of his majesty, and will be responsible for all affairs related to the Lady Consort here on forth.”

Calista kept her expression as neutral as possible, ignoring the eyes seeking out her reaction. She took her time in placing down her cup, folding her hands neatly in front of her.

“If that is what his majesty has ordered, then be sure to execute the work diligently,” she acknowledged with a magnanimous smile. “I will personally meet with the Lady Consort to ensure her comfort during this change.”

She dismissed him with a wave of her hand and turned to busying herself with the pastries laid out. Seeing the Empress’s carefree attitude, the ladies started to comfortably talk again.

“Your majesty, you’re too kind,” one complimented, placing a flaky pastry in front of her.

“I agree! His majesty must be doing so because of her pregnancy, but you are far too busy to have to worry about meeting with her personally,” another offered.

She tuned them out, engaging with them superficially. These women were supposed to be her closest aides, but she knew they were just saying what they thought she wanted to hear. Fingers absentmindedly turned the ring on her thumb, thoughts lost in conversation she had with her mother long ago.

“It is unfortunate that you must take the mantle of an Empress who has to deal with consorts, but I suppose given the circumstances it is unavoidable.”

Calista smiled unworriedly, admiring the jewels and clothes laid out for her choosing. The rich materials and lustrous gems were several degrees better than those she currently had as Crown Princess. However soon enough, this degree of luxury would be her everyday life.

“What is there to worry about mother? They may be consorts, but I will always be Empress. There is no comparison between me and them.”

She tilted her head in the mirror, admiring a string of pearls she held against her neck. Scrunching her nose, she put them down in favour of a large ruby pendant. After examining it, she changed her mind again – settling on a bright pear-shaped topaz. A disgusted scoff broke through her perusal.

Her mother stood her up, pulling her out onto the balcony. The central palace’s courtyard was a motion of activity, no one spot quiet, as they prepared for the coronation. In the midst of the preparations, several ornate carriages had pulled up towards two parallel lines of waiting servants.

“Your confidence is admirable,” the duchess mocked with a sarcastic smile.

She gestured downwards towards the carriages with a flourish of her hand. “If a woman’s heart is fickle, then a man’s heart is never to be trusted. If a king takes a mistress, that is all she is. A decorative ornament for his amusing – even if she were to have his child, it would be a bastard with no claim to the throne. Why then, dear daughter, do you think the concept of consorts was reinstated?”

Calista grabbed onto the railing of the balcony, trying to soak in the warmth it had gathered under the heat of the sun. She felt unease curl low in her belly, watching as the women passing by the servants received low bows and respectful greetings.

“A consort is second only to the Empress,” her mother explained, “She is awarded status, dignity, and power. They can proudly share his majesty’s bed, knowing that if they were to bring a child into the world, that it would have a legitimate place in the succession of the throne. Now, more than ever, the situation is ideal for each of these women entering the palace. The Crown Prince is still young, and his position is not firmly guaranteed. His majesty is a young Emperor, who will have no problem in bed relations. Are you still so unworried, dear daughter?”

The words washed over her, causing her heart to knock heavily behind her ribs. She breathed in deeply, trying to calm her mind.

“What you say may be true, mother. But I am his majesty’s wife. I am the mother of his first child. I will be the Empress to stand by his side – for better, or for worse.”

“They are just as much of a wife to him as you are,” the duchess snapped back. “These accomplishments of yours still have to face the test of time. His majesty is a man, and now he is a man with options. In the same way you are enamoured by new luxuries, so too will he be. Look, look closely! Each woman that has passed is more resplendent than the last.”

The young crown princess, and soon to be Empress, had noticed the women that had passed. At first, they did not stand out to her. But her mother’s explanation had her assessing them more closely.

The last carriage opened, and a dark head emerged. Under the bright sun, a halo of purple surrounded the gleaming long locks. Even from afar, Calista could make out the fetching features and large eyes.

“Remember dear daughter, a woman’s worst enemy is another woman.”

The naivete that she had was broken soon after, just as her mother had warned. The night of her coronation, she was left alone as the Emperor, her husband, lay with another woman. The image of those sleepy amber eyes and blood-stained sheets was seared in her memory. From then on, she had promised to guard herself against the schemes around her.

But, with the way things were unfolding… had she already begun to lose?

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