has added TSE into their Featured Stories!

.·。.·゜·༺♥༻ ·゜·。.

"I'll take any words of yours, no matter how strange or bizarre. Because I believe you. I always will."

"You are very brave, and honest."

Cal tossed and turned in his bed as his wife's comforting words continued to ring in his ears. Reaching around him, he grabbed onto a cushion and pulled it against his chest. His eyes fluttered open, feeling the coldness of a pillow instead of Gigi's comforting warmth. But of course, she wouldn't be here; he was far away in Archambault at Philippe's family's estate. As planned, he intended to go forward with his plans for Seol-il while she remained with their son at home.

It had been two weeks since their brief honeymoon and the night she offered to wake with him to prevent the nightmares from occurring. Although it was still happening once or twice, the way he'd always go to bed feeling safe and at ease had lessened the effect they had on him. But above all, knowing Gigi was willing to stand by his truth had given him the utmost strength. For the first time in his life, he felt optimistic that the day where he would no longer be tormented by his past might not be so far away.

The clock rang, marking half-past two in the morning; around the time he would wake from his nightmares. Gigi was always there, whispering words of reassurance into his ears. Her warmth surrounding him like a cocoon.

He hadn't any nightmares tonight but feeling deprived of her presence.

Picking up the phone, he ran his fingers over the buttons, contemplating the idea of giving her a call. After all, it wasn't just Junior who needed calls for support, right?

After spending a good five minutes debating with himself, he let the telephone slip out of his hand. His wife might be resting right now, and the last thing he wanted was to be a clingy, needy husband. But a moment after it was back on the desk, the telephone was ringing off the hook; he snapped it back up.

"Sire...?" she whispered at the other end of the line. "Are you doing alright?"

"Darling, do you have a twin?" He murmured into the speaker, earning a confused 'no'. "Then how could you be over the telephone and be on my mind at the same time?"

"Oh, hush, you silly man," he could hear the smirk in her voice. "You weren't thinking of me, you were sleeping."

Cal didn't care if he was a twenty-eight-year-old man with a child. He didn't care if he sounded like a teenager. All he knew was that he was in love. A love that changed his life for the better.

"Gi, tell me what am I doing here again?"

"Performing your duties as an Emperor?"

"Then why am I not in our bed kissing every inch of your skin? That's a huge violation; a dishonour of my commitments to Praja." He trailed his fingers up the silken sheets, feeling how it was similar to the materials of her nightgown.

"And Praja would hate to see Angletonia fall from glory. They might summon me back," she taunted. "You have a busy day tomorrow, Sire. You need your sleep. No more playing around."

"So why are you giving me a telephone call so late at night? It's only fair to say I am not the only one..." he wiggled his shoulders, even though she couldn't see it.

"I dialled you to check if you had nightmares, but you seem to be doing just fine."

"I would have nightmares now, without you in my arms," he begged. "Now, what are you wearing?"

"Goodnight, Sire," said Gigi before she hung up.

The next morning, Philippe snickered as he saw Cal's irked expression as he made his way down the manor's staircase for breakfast. "You don't look very happy this morning. Que s'est-il passé?"

Cal shook his head. "You wouldn't understand, you're not a happily married man."

"Touché. But I'm a happily unmarried man," Philippe winked, straightening his suit.

"And that is what we hope to change," chirped an elegant, blonde woman. She was Philippe's sister and Cal's cousin; Celeste, Countess of Gushlain.

"Cece, I didn't know you were here," Cal welcomed her into a warm hug.

"I was told you were visiting, I wouldn't miss the chance." She led him to the breakfast table.

The three of them then dug into their breakfast.

"Is it true that my brother is seeing the Prime Minister's daughter?"

"Who, Joséfina? Foul gossip, nous sommes juste amis," Philippe denied.

"And I thought spending time with Cal would've inspired you to start a family," she sighed.

***

"See, this is why I'm barely home. She and my parents are pushing me to get married," Philippe grumbled as he entered the car after Cal.

"It's just the perks of being the heir," Cal patted his back.

"But why does it always have to be the son? I never asked to be an heir," he sighed.

"Then tell them you don't want to get married unless you've found the right person."

"I thought I found the right person years ago. Turns out it was a lie."

Cal looked at him sympathetically. That painful break-up still wounded his cousin's heart. "I know. Why don't you try getting arranged to someone?"

"No offence, but... ew?" he cringed and Cal guffawed. "Enough talking about my love life. Kym Shion has been waiting for us at the shelter home."

After a short drive, they arrived at the temporary housing for Seol-il refugees. It was finally completed months after he had announced that Angletonia was providing Seol-il relief aid. Located in a village nearby, they had reconstructed an old farm as a base for the building. Cal stared as hundreds of Seol-il people flooded the area, knowing that this would be his first chance to have direct interaction with them.

Kym Shion welcomed them at the gate after they struggled to march through the press. Unlike his first trip, this visit was a public one.

"We have finished constructing the essential facilities, Your Majesty. As you see we've got the sleeping quarters, bathrooms, a dining room, and a small hospital to treat the ill," Kym Shion explained after taking them on a tour around the place; showing Cal the improvements they have made since the last time he visited.

"Well done. I am thrilled to see that they're living in an actual building as opposed to some tents. The point of this place is to show them a better living condition than they were provided by you-know-who," Cal said approvingly as he looked around the establishment. "Is there any reason why the dining room is located outdoors? Is it the custom to eat outside in Seol-il?" Cal pointed out the long tables that had been set up in the courtyards.

"These people create a long line to queue for food, and when they do there isn't enough space to contain them all in one room. Besides, this will not be their permanent home. They'll happily return home once we win their lands for them," Kym Shion replied with certainty.

Philippe raised his brows at that but otherwise said nothing.

"But there's still a problem with this place. I see a lot of children, but there are no classrooms, no books, and no space to learn." Cal pointed out. "These kids need education, gentlemen, or else we're treating them exactly like you-know-who."

"We still don't have resources for that, Your Majesty. We have to wait for the conflict to die down if we are to get any tutors from Seol-il, and there's no education for commoners."

"Get Anglese teachers; we have plenty of them," Cal ordered before he heard the ringing of bells. "What do those bells mean?"

"It's lunchtime," Kym Shion answered. "We serve them meals three times a day as you suggested. Today's menu is meat and porridge, which happens to be the people's favourite."

A minute after the bell rang, the heads of the families were already rushing to grab wooden bowls on a tray and starting to line up for food. Although the shelter was located in Angletonia, the kitchen served them Seol-il cuisine so it'd be to their liking. The meat and porridge were soon poured into their bowls by the cooks, and the people would eat together with their families at the long tables.

"Allow me to help," Cal insisted, rolling up his sleeves. It was a good opportunity to get closer to these people. If he was to lead them in the future, he needed to know them better.

"But you can't, Your Majesty!" objected one of the Lords that had gone with him.

"Don't question me," he insisted, handing over his suit jacket to his assistant.

Serving out food for the refugees turned out to be an exhausting task; a line could be up to a hundred people, and there were three lines. Though Cal had experience around in the kitchen, he obviously had never served before.

Because the Emperor himself was pouring porridge into bowls, it put the rest of the high-ranking officials in an awkward position, so they ended up helping out around him. It was such a rare scene to behold, he wondered if his mother had faced a similar thing while feeding Angletonian soldiers.

Nevertheless, the cooks had lent him an apron; a sweet reminder of the night he cooked for Gigi in their honeymoon cottage.

In the middle of the crowd, Cal spotted a little girl around the age of twelve with a sickly younger brother asking for two bowls of porridge in the line beside his. She took the porridge to the tables only to trip over a rock, spilling their precious food onto the ground. Crying hysterically, she shovelled the soiled meal back into their bowls.

Cal rushed to her side. "What are you doing? Don't pick it off the ground, just take some more!" he scolded gently, trying to pry her hands off the dirty bowls.

The little girl wept, stammering some words in a language he couldn't understand.

"They're saying, 'We're sorry, please don't beat us, Sir," Kym Shion translated as he reached their spot.

Cal gawked in utter shock. "Why would I beat children like you?"

"They used to ask for food at their local shelters, but the government officers would make the guards beat people up with spears if they caused trouble or started a scene."

"Where are their parents? Why are they here alone?"

The little girl stuttered some more before Kym Shion continued to translate for them. "Their parents were captured by the soldiers while trying to cross the border. They sacrificed themselves to let their children get away."

Cal rubbed his temple. Their parents got captured because they were trying to reach Angletonia... It was good news for the coalition, meaning the Seol-il monarchy had heard about the existence of the shelter. But these children paid with their suffering.

"I'm sorry to hear that. We'll do everything we can to find and free your parents."

Kym Shion translated it for him, at which the little girl's face brightened in delight.

"Tha-Thank you, Mister," she said in shaky Anglese.

"He's the Emperor," Philippe blurted.

Cal had expected the little girl's face to brighten with happiness, only to have her throw herself back on the ground upon hearing that. Offering her his hand, she shook her head in fear.

"Commoners are not allowed to cast their gaze upon royalty," Kym Shion clarified, at Cal's inquisitive gaze.

"I understand why you wouldn't look at me, but I need to take your brother to the hospital. He's unwell, and I think he'll do better with you by his side," he smiled. "In Angletonia, looking in one's eyes can be a form of attention and respect," he reassured.

With more words of encouragement, the little girl cautiously raised her head, allowing herself a small glance at him.

"There you go," he smiled, giving her a gentle pat on the head.

A moment later, he was carrying her younger brother into the hospital wing, the little girl trailing behind him.

"I have a son at home around your brother's age," he grinned, settling the boy into bed. "I'll have your food delivered here soon."

By the afternoon, the visit was coming to an end. Cal considered it a success; everything was going as he'd planned. As they returned to the manor, he saw that his aunt Marlene was expecting him.

"Cal, dear," she greeted. "Busy day? I was wondering if I could have a moment with you."

A moment later, they were taking a leisurely stroll around the estate. With her hair blowing in the autumn winds, Marlene looked like the very image of Orianne in paintings.

"Cal, you surely know that my family and I will always support you. Yet I cannot help wondering— what are you trying to accomplish here?" she asked as they stopped by a large pine tree.

"All my life I had always been told that one day I was going to be a certain figure. A figure of immeasurable power and influence. So I spent the entirety of it figuring it out. What kind of legacy would I carve unto this world? Which name would I want to be known? That path has led me to Seol-il."

"I have no qualms that your intentions are noble. But monarchies are sustained and preserved through means above one's personal ambition," Marlene reminded. "It is our collective goal that brought us here."

"You don't think I have our family's interest at heart? I have not forgotten the expectations that come with this power, a certain face that my predecessors must present to the world; the Empire. The world demands it and they shall get it. This time, it will be different." Cal said with certainty.

"Your predecessors knew how to keep the Empire secure by limiting the focus to ourselves. Since we're not located in the continent, we're removed from the bigger competitors and instead have these smaller neighbouring countries that are barely a menace, much less taking care of themselves. I'm just making sure that one day you will be regretting your decision."

"Emilian united our lands, freeing us from the clutch of the leeches parading as mouths of god. Raedan II gave us the Southern Isles, starting the rise of our military, which Father had maintained. We can't just keep doing what's always been done before out of fear," Cal stressed. "I appreciate what my predecessors have done for this country, but tradition means nothing if it gains nothing. What I'm doing is keeping us relevant."

"Stability and safety sound enthralling, but I set my eyes on something bigger. I want to create a new image, which Angletonia stand tall. New dawn, which will make us immortals. What other monarchs take 30 years to accomplish, I'm doing it in months."

Marlene tilted her head. "Is that why you took a wife from halfway across the world? Apologies, dear, I know you and Gianita love each other, but that wasn't your intention in the beginning."

Cal nodded. "The world is changing, thus we must evolve with it. We'll need support from every corner of the globe; not just our friends from the continent."

Marlene raised her brows. "You have a lot of your mother in you."

"Is it too much?" Cal grinned, earning a nod from his aunt. "Being feared is a dated way to achieve greatness. A leader feared is a leader scorned. It's only a matter of time before the world gets tired of them."

***

As Cal returned to the manor, he saw Adejola already in the drawing-room.

"I see blondie has yet to announce my arrival," he joked, looking at the surprised look on Cal's face. "I came here to get a distraction, it's sad being back home... Also to apologize."

"...What for?"

"For not being able to help you out eight years ago with that broad. My testimony sold you out to her. I have never gotten over it and each time I've seen you it made me so guilty. But I don't want to miss out on my chance to apologize, in case one of us ends up like my brother. So..." He poured some drink into his glass.

"It wasn't your fault, nobody could've won against Isleen." Cal shook his head, taking a seat across from him. "So I guess you are a king now?"

"When people live on the moon, I shall be King." He cackled.

"I'm sorry but I heard your brother passed away?" Cal blinked, confused. "You should be King."

"No. My little nephew is King. That wee boy's only three when he lost his father."

"Goodness, mate. I'm so sorry."

"At least don't be sorry that I'm back. There were no good parties back in my region. I attended the party of Princess Isidora from Avaris, and I expected her birthday to be fun like yours. Turns out she's a kid."

"A grave disappointment." Cal laughed, sipping his own drink.

"Her country's running on debt, though. Rumour has it, that party's just a cover for her father to get her matched to a wealthy suitor. Ain't that freaky?"

Cal winced behind his glass. "Some people really ought not to have kids."

"I'm surprised you weren't invited. She's your son's age."

.·。.·゜·༺♥༻ ·゜·。.