[The Imperial Palace — Great Banquet Hall — Moments Later]
The music had stopped completely; not a single instrument dared to make a sound. The nobles stood frozen beneath the towering bronze pillars, their gazes fixed upon the two men before the imperial dais.
The Malik of Eshkaran and the Azram of House Veyrath, their lips had just met in front of the entire imperial court.
During the emperor’s birthday celebration.
A sacred evening that had been meticulously arranged with offerings to the Seven Guardians, golden wine, ceremonial dances, and enough expensive decorations to bankrupt a lesser noble house.
And now...now the court had witnessed something that would probably be whispered about for the next hundred years.
Malik stood motionless; his amber eyes were wide, his breathing momentarily uneven. A faint redness had spread across his cheeks, creeping all the way to the tips of his ears. For the first time in the history of Eshkaran, the Demon of Eshkaran appeared to have lost a battle, and the enemy was embarrassed.
Vaerun, meanwhile, remained equally still, his silver eyes staring at Malik.
Then, very slowly, his gaze shifted towards their position; his hand was still resting beside Malik’s shoulder. His other hand was gripping the golden embroidery of Malik’s royal robes.
He released it immediately, as though the fabric had suddenly become poisonous.
The nobel had gone so pale that his companion quietly reached for his arm, apparently concerned he might faint. Even the Imperial Guards looked uncertain; they had sworn to protect the Malik from assassins, enemies, rebellions, and foreign invaders.
Nobody had ever mentioned protecting him from an accidental kiss, and then a tiny giggle broke the silence.
"Hehehehehe..."
Seyra stood near the dais, both little hands covering her mouth, her violet eyes sparkling, and her cheeks puffed up. She was doing an absolutely terrible job of looking innocent. Beside her, Enlil had turned the color of freshly poured flour.
His little fingers trembled around the edge of his tunic; he looked at Malik, then Vaerun, then Seyra, and then back at Malik. His expression seemed to ask the Seven Guardians why they had allowed him to be born.
We’re finished.
That was the only thought his little mind could produce.
Meanwhile, Malik finally moved; he straightened, and his gaze travelled across the hall. Hundreds of eyes immediately dropped to the floor.
He saw the widened eyes, the trembling shoulders, and the suspiciously lowered faces, and...by the Seven Guardians...he even saw one old duke biting the inside of his cheek.
The emperor’s jaw tightened; his ears grew redder.
"I..." He stopped; the entire court held its breath. "I... shall—"
Another pause.
His lips parted but nothing came out. Malik Zayrakh Azrath, the man who had once silenced an entire rebellion with a single sentence, could not complete a simple declaration.
His gaze flickered towards Vaerun.
Vaerun looked back, and that was somehow worse. Malik immediately turned away.
"I shall..."
He stopped again; his Imperial Captain took one cautious step forward. "Your Majesty?"
Malik’s eyes snapped towards him.
"Do not."
The captain immediately lowered his head.
Malik inhaled and straightened his crown, adjusted his robes, and then, with whatever remained of his imperial dignity, declared—
"I... shall retire."
He turned on his heel and walked away rather quickly.
"Your Majesty!" the Imperial Captain called, hurrying after him.
Malik did not stop, his long royal robes swept across the polished stone as he strode towards the great bronze doors, his pace becoming increasingly difficult to distinguish from a retreat.
The captain followed with several guards; one of them nearly collided with a ceremonial pillar, and another pretended not to have seen anything.
And Malik?
Malik did not look back, not once. The moment the great doors closed behind him, the entire hall remained silent.
For three heartbeats.
Four.
Five.
Then several nobles slowly raised their heads; their expressions were priceless.
"Did... did that truly happen?"
On the ceremonial platform, Kassur Nabu had not moved. His wine cup was still in his hand, his eyes had lowered towards the marble floor and his carefully prepared evidence, his accusations, and his entire plan to expose the Emperor—all of it had been interrupted by two men falling on top of each other.
He had spent months preparing for this evening.
He had gathered documents, arranged witnesses, traced forbidden transactions, and waited for the perfect opportunity, and now the court would remember this birthday for an entirely different reason.
Kassur slowly closed his eyes.
’What kind of cursed evening is this?’
But his misery was not the only thing brewing in the hall; near the eastern pillars, Lady Tazira stood rigid. Her delicate fingers had curled around her golden wine cup so tightly that her knuckles had turned white.
Her eyes remained fixed on the great doors through which Malik had disappeared.
The Malik had left, and he had left with his cheeks flushed, his ears red, and his composure shattered.
Lady Tazira’s lips trembled.
She had spent the entire evening hoping to attract even a fraction of Malik’s attention. She had chosen her finest lapis ornaments, worn the royal blue silk reserved for the most distinguished ladies, and rehearsed her greetings until every word sounded perfect.
Yet Malik had barely glanced at her, and now...now the entire court had witnessed him kissing another man.
Her wine cup gave a faint creak beneath her fingers. A nearby lady noticed and quietly moved away.
Lady Tazira’s smile disappeared.
’How... utterly shameless.’
Her gaze shifted towards Vaerun, then towards the little girl standing beside him, her expression darkened. If looks could set a person ablaze, the banquet hall would have needed an army of water priests.
And Seyra?
Seyra was having the time of her life.
"Hehehehe..."
Another giggle escaped her; she pressed both hands against her cheeks.
’What a beautiful evening. What a magnificent birthday. What a wonderful contribution to the history of Eshkaran!’
She almost wanted to applaud herself because—
FWIP!
A head turned, not just any head. The head of the most terrifying father in the empire. Vaerun’s silver eyes snapped towards his daughter.
The little girl froze; her giggle died, and her hands slowly slipped from her cheeks.
’Oh...oh, no, that gaze.’
She knew that gaze.
It was the same expression Vaerun wore when a general delivered a disappointing report, when a noble crossed the boundaries of House Veyrath, or when someone had the audacity to suggest that she should finish her vegetables before eating dessert.
Except this time... It was directed at her.
Seyra swallowed. Vaerun said nothing; he merely looked at her, and somehow, that was worse. Her little body shifted backwards, then she glanced at Enlil.
The boy was already staring at her with wide, terrified eyes. Seyra grabbed his little hand.
"L-let’s play outside, Enlil!"
Enlil blinked.
"Wh-what?"
"Let’s go!"
"But—"
"NOW!"
She turned and rushed away, dragging the poor boy behind her, her little sandals slapped against the polished stone.
Tap-tap-tap-tap!
Enlil stumbled after her, nearly tripping over his own feet.
"La...Lady Se-Seyra! Wait!"
"No time!"
"Where are we going?"
"Somewhere far away!"
"Why?"
"Because Papa is angry!"
Behind them, Vaerun watched the two children disappear between the bronze pillars. His expression remained perfectly calm, almost perfectly.
A faint vein throbbed near his temple; he slowly lowered his gaze to the spot where Seyra had been standing.
Then he looked towards the great doors, then towards the direction in which his daughter had fled.
A long silence followed.
Finally, he exhaled.
"...Seyra."
His voice was quiet, dangerously quiet. Several nobles instinctively stepped aside, and somewhere beyond the bronze pillars, a tiny voice echoed through the corridor—
"ENLIL! RUN FASTER!"
Vaerun closed his eyes.
The Seven Guardians had granted him dominion over the winds; he could summon a tempest capable of tearing apart armies, and he could bring an entire battlefield to its knees, yet somehow...he could not keep his four-year-old daughter from causing a catastrophe and running away before the consequences arrived.
Perhaps the true ruler of Eshkaran was not the Malik. Perhaps it was a little girl with violet eyes and absolutely no fear of consequences.
***
[The Imperial Palace — Royal Garden — Moments Later]
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
A tiny figure rushed through the marble corridor, her little sandals slapping against the polished floor; behind her, another pair of much smaller footsteps struggled to keep up.
"Lady S-Seyra! Wait!"
"No time, Enlil!"
"But where are we going?"
"Somewhere safe!"
Enlil’s little face paled further as he ran faster.
The two children finally slipped through an arched doorway and entered the royal garden.
A gentle evening breeze swept through the sprawling grounds. Moonlight spilled over the pale stone pathways, illuminating the delicate branches of date palms and the colorful flowers arranged around the garden. Golden lanterns hung from carved pillars, their flames flickering softly against the darkening sky.
At the center stood an enormous fountain, its sculpted stone lions pouring water into a wide marble basin.
Seyra finally stopped.
"Haaah..." She bent forward, placing both hands on her knees. "Haa... Haa..."
A moment later, Enlil arrived beside her, breathing as though he had just run across the entire empire.
"L-Lady Seyra..." He pressed a hand against his chest. "Why... why did we run?"
Seyra straightened.
Then she looked behind them, no Vaerun and no terrifying silver eyes. Her little face slowly brightened.
"Hehehe..."
She placed both hands on her hips.
Then—
BOING!
She jumped.
BOING! BOING!
She jumped again, her little feet leaving the ground as her violet eyes sparkled with unrestrained delight.
"It worked!"
Enlil blinked. Seyra spun around, practically vibrating with excitement.
"It actually worked!"
She clenched both fists. "That old fox was going to expose Malik, but...HAHA! He couldn’t even finish his sentence!"
She covered her mouth. "Hehehehe! And then...THE KISS! Papa fell on Malik! Malik fell on Papa! And the whole court saw everything!"
She pressed her little hands against her cheeks. "Ahhh! What a beautiful sight!"
Enlil stared at her, his expression was somewhere between confusion and horror.
"Lady Seyra..."
"Hmm?"
"Wasn’t that... bad?"
Seyra tilted her head.
"Bad?"
She considered the question for a moment, then she shook her head. "No. It was an accident."
Enlil looked at her and Seyra smiled. "A very useful accident."
The little boy’s mouth opened, he seemed to be reconsidering every decision that had brought him into this friendship.
Seyra, meanwhile, was already imagining the aftermath.
The court will be talking about this for months! Perhaps years! And Kassur? Oh, that poor old man. He prepared an entire speech, only to have it interrupted by the most unexpected event in imperial history!
She giggled again, then...a faint sound reached her ears, a low, deep rumble.
Seyra stopped, her smile slowly faded as she turned her head towards the fountain and something was there.
At first, she noticed only a dark shape beside the marble basin. Then the lantern light caught the enormous body, the powerful shoulders, and the fiery markings that seemed to glow beneath its dark coat.
Two blazing eyes opened in the shadows. Seyra’s little body went stiff.
The beast slowly raised its head, the same magnificent tiger stood beside the fountain, its coat dark as burnt bronze, streaked with glowing crimson patterns. Flames flickered faintly along its shoulders and paws, yet none of the surrounding flowers were touched.
Its enormous tail moved once, and a low growl vibrated through the garden.
Azhar.
The Fire Guardian.
Malik’s elemental beast, the Divine Guardian of Fire.
Seyra stared. Azhar stared back and for several seconds, neither moved. Then the little girl’s face gradually lost its colour.
...Why is he here?
Her gaze shifted towards the palace.
Wait....is he here because of Malik?
Azhar rose, the enormous beast’s paws touched the stone pathway, and a faint shimmer of heat rippled through the air.
Her mind began working at extraordinary speed.
;Malik was embarrassed. Malik left the banquet. Malik has a terrifying Fire Guardian and now his Fire Guardian is standing in front of me.’
She looked at Azhar.
Azhar looked at her.
’Is this beast here to take me back to Malik? Or worse...Is he here to punish me?
Azhar lowered his head slightly and a faint curl of smoke escaped his nostrils. Seyra’s eyes widened.
’I’m too young to die! I haven’t even finished my honey cakes!’
And then a voice sounded from behind them, calm, deep and unhurried. Yet carrying a familiar edge that made the very air seem to grow colder.
"SEYRA VEYRATH."
The little girl’s entire soul nearly left her body, her fingers tightened around Enlil’s hand. Slowly...very slowly...she turned her head.
Her Papa had arrived and he had used her full name. Seyra’s violet eyes widened in absolute horror.
’...Oh, no. PAPA CALLED ME BY MY FULL NAME.’