The Shadow of the Throne

Having left the Crown Prince’s palace, I headed straight for the Emperor’s residence. The Emperor’s schedule was always packed to the brim; the early hours before the state council were the only time one could catch him freely.

Upon arriving, I made my way naturally to where I expected him to be. Since the Emperor always shared a morning tea with the Empress before the meeting, I turned toward the gardens.

Sure enough, the two were there, sipping tea.

“I greet the Sun and Moon of the Empire.”

“Welcome, Prince.”

As I paid my respects, the Emperor—possessing the same golden hair as Chase—and the Empress—whose silver hair, identical to mine, was elegantly pinned up—looked back at me.

The two wore matching outfits as if by design. Though one was a suit and the other a gown, the fabric, color, and embellishments were so identical that anyone could tell they were a set from a thousand miles away. Despite lacking any true affection for one another, they always dressed in unison to flaunt the strength of their political bond to the world.

The Empress smiled warmly at my greeting and offered me a seat. I sat without protest, and a waiting maid brought a cup to pour me tea. My reflection rippled in the pale crimson liquid.

“So, I heard you visited the sinner? And that you’ve brought that boy into your palace.”

The Emperor’s voice was dry, devoid of any emotion. There was no lingering affection for the woman who had shared his bed and birthed his son, nor any love for the boy he still believed to be his own blood. For that matter, he showed no affection for me, either. While both were distant, the Empress at least possessed a shred more humanity than the Emperor.

“We do not know what the child of such a sinner might do.”

The Empress’s eyes flashed with a chilling light at the mention of Consort Dahlia, but they filled with genuine worry for me when she spoke of Chase. To keep Chase by my side, I had to put her mind at ease.

In truth, the relationship between the Empress and Consort Dahlia hadn’t been particularly terrible. The Empress viewed the Emperor strictly as a political partner; as long as he didn’t let “love” blind him into ruining their alliances, she wouldn’t have cared if he had one consort or a thousand.

Thus, when Dahlia first entered the palace through the Emperor’s grace, the Empress hadn’t been spiteful. She had merely warned the girl not to harbor any foolish hopes of usurping her position. Beyond that, she hadn’t cared if Dahlia indulged in luxury or acted high-handedly toward subordinates.

From the Empress’s perspective, the fact that Dahlia tried to poison me—despite the mercy shown to her—was the height of ingratitude.

“It is fine. There is no way I would fail to suppress someone who hasn’t even awakened their abilities,” I said.

I opened my hand, releasing a flicker of power above my palm. The Empress smiled with satisfaction at the sight of the shimmering, vivid golden energy.

I intentionally wore an arrogant expression. Seeing me maintain my regal pride and imperial audacity despite the harrowing attempt on my life seemed to reassure them.

Since I was born as an Omega chosen by the gods, my power was immense. My Authority shone with a golden light so brilliant it was said only the First Emperor had matched it.

The Empress, though pleased, added a cautionary note.

“Still, be careful, Crown Prince. I know you are strong, but remember that venomous creatures always wait for the smallest crack to sink their fangs in.”

Her words pointed directly to the fact that I had actually succumbed to Dahlia’s poison once. To be honest, before I regained my memories, I had believed nothing could kill me. I hadn’t expected Dahlia to possess a poison that could rival the power of the gods, and that arrogance was exactly why I was currently dying.

‘Unless one possesses an Authority related to self-healing, that poison is incurable.’

Regrettably, my power was not of the healing variety. What use was all this strength if I couldn’t even protect my own life? In the past, I took great pride in this destructive power, but now, I found myself envying the healing abilities I once deemed trivial.

“So, what brings you here so early in the morning?”

The Emperor’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. ‘Haha, I came to see my mother and father,’ was a response far too sentimental for our chilly relationship. I got straight to the point.

“I wish to be the one to decide the fate of Consort Dahlia and Prince Chase.”

“The fate of the sinners?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

A flicker of interest crossed the Emperor’s otherwise hollow face. He leaned his chin on his hand and studied me.

“Let’s hear it.”

“Since the crime was committed by Consort Dahlia herself, I ask that she alone be executed. As for Prince Chase, I wish for him to be demoted to a commoner.”

The Emperor’s eyebrow arched. He likely expected me to demand they be torn limb from limb or kept alive as miserable slaves. Certainly, that’s what the “old me” would have asked for.

“How peculiar.”

He stared at me as if trying to figure me out, his eyes narrowing as he scanned my face. Despite being his son, he had never shown me this much scrutiny before, and I couldn’t help but feel a surge of tension.

“…”

“Everything I expected was wrong. After hearing you met the sinner yesterday, I wondered if you might actually ask for her life to be spared.”

“If I asked, would you have granted it?”

The Emperor let out a deep laugh. He so rarely showed such overt emotion that even the Empress looked surprised.

“That, I would not allow.”

Of course. As I had noted, Dahlia’s actions were nothing short of high treason. Even if it was a request from his precious heir, there were limits to what could be overlooked. I wasn’t disappointed.

“I expected as much. Then, may I have my way with Prince Chase’s punishment?”

“Hmm.”

The Emperor’s eyes searched mine, trying to gauge what I intended to do with a boy who was neither a prince nor a s*ave, but a commoner. Unable to read my intent, he eventually gestured with both hands in a sign of surrender.

“And what do you plan to do with him once he is a commoner?”

“I intend to keep him by my side.”

“Ha?”

“Crown Prince!”

The Emperor laughed in disbelief, and the Empress, who had been listening quietly, gasped in horror. She immediately warned me of the dangers of keeping such a person close, her voice sharp with concern.

“He might grow up to do exactly what his mother did!”

“But that is why I cannot cast him out. I don’t know what he might plot where I cannot see him.”

“But still…”

“Therefore, I will keep him where I can watch him. I will monitor him so closely that he won’t even be able to dream of betrayal.”

The Empress pursed her lips, clearly dissatisfied, but she didn’t argue further. By her logic, if the boy was to live, my reasoning made the most sense. Even in an Empire blessed by God, there were always those nursing foul ambitions. Not knowing that Chase wasn’t of imperial blood, she likely feared that someone might use the boy as a figurehead to threaten the throne.

“I thought you would demand he be made a s*ave and dragged through the dirt,” the Emperor said, speaking once the Empress fell silent.

The old me would have. But I did not want that child to suffer.

“He may be a fool who cannot use his abilities, but he is still of Imperial blood. Should we allow such a person to become a s*ave? Such a trivial thing could tarnish the dignity of the entire Imperial House.”

An Imperial falling to the status of a s*ave—it was a dangerous precedent. They were descendants of the gods, but not gods themselves. If one could fall that low, others might begin to wonder if they could pull the rest of us down, too. Or worse, someone might take a former Imperial s*ave and perform unspeakable acts just to prove we weren’t special.

To me, that was a humiliation greater than any other. The Emperor considered my answer for a moment and nodded, finding the logic sound.

“If that is what you wish, so be it. Dispose of Prince Chase as you see fit.”

Dispose. It was a cruel word to use for one’s own flesh and blood. Bitterness brushed against me, but since I had achieved my goal, I bowed my head.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Hmph.”

“Ah, may I ask for one more favor?”

“What is it?”

“Regarding Consort Dahlia…”

The Emperor’s bored expression shifted into one of confusion as I finished my sentence.

“Please, make her end swift. Do not let her suffer.”

It was the greatest mercy I could offer Chase. I couldn’t do anything about the torture she had already endured while I was unconscious, but from this moment on, I wanted to do what I could.

“You continue to surprise me.”

“…”

“I expected you to ask for her to be drawn and quartered, or perhaps flayed alive. To think you would ask for a quick death.”