Floor 3: Sweet Potato

POV: Emperor Nix

"Great Emperor!" Lord Arnold

somehow managed to lower himself further. "My son has spoken unforgivably and speaks lies!"

I stare down at a clearly wronged child. The innocent young saint with glistening tears. A fragile expression surrounded by shoulder length russet hair. It tied partially back with a white ribbon, matching his holy gown. A pair of unusual emeralds for eyes blinked up at the ruler with desperate understanding. Surely this child could do no wrongs intentionally. A scarred hand is held up before the lord to silence him.

"Enough. We will discuss this alone. The child would not say such things without hearing such words from another." My knowing eyes pierce the lord's resolve. He flinches and bows.

"Yes great emperor."

Lord Arnold summons a servant to take his child home to recover from the ordeal. The noble children flee to their respective parents after showing their respects.

"Red." The little prince looks up in a mix of anger and fear. "Ignore this. I will handle it."

"You will father? I want to handle the saint myself." Clear fixation clouds his judgement. He has often bothered the saint.

"Leave him be, his father is at fault." I press a firm hand on the prince's shoulders. "You should spend your time getting closer to him not harassing him. He will be your husband one day." Red flinches, clearly dissatisfied.

"Yes father." He looks over to the small saint as he is led out of the room. "I may still have a concubine of my choosing father?" His gaze returns to mine.

"So young and already thinking of such things. Have you a lady in mind?" A clear blush crosses the heir's cheeks. He meekly nods. A sense of pride fills my being. A leave a gentle pat on my son's shoulder.

"Worry not. Marrying the church's chosen is mearly for appearances. This time is a saint as well. You will be expected to take a woman to produce an heir eventually." Red looks up at me with a smile. His eyes sparkling.

"Yes father."

…

I'm brought to my old cage. An overly bright overly frilly room. A large round bed at its center with clear fabric descended from the ceiling to shroud the pile the pillows and neatly made blankets. The whole room has no color a startling white from top to bottom. Behind the bed towering glass windows, replacing a wall acting as doors to an empty balcony. Around the room are various sculpted 3D paintings of holy figures. Tall plain vases with white lilies sit at the art's sides. The only hint of technology the ceiling light. A single solid tube lighting around the edges and corners.

I head for the balcony. The glass slides surprisingly easy for a child considering its size. I lean against the marble railing. My head resting in my arms. Below is the garden, encircled by the enormous central palace. To my left the attached higher temple, to the right the emperor's lodgings and in front the area designated for the public.

The breeze winds through my hair tossing strands in my face. I huff out a stubborn resistance only for the strands to return.

"So… what now?" The question hangs in the temperate air. Answered my my own sly grin. "I suppose I should repay some overdue vengeance." I unfold my arms to push myself back from the railing eyeing down at the passing priests and nobles. "First the prince." The words are filled with an overflowing venom.

I open my inventory while lounging on the overly cushioned bed. I pull out my new blade. The royal slayer blade a bit too large for my now smaller grasp. A simple murder would be too easy on the Prince. I slip the blade back in and close my inventory. I flop back into the white pillowy mass. I spend the next hour planning out every nasty detail. The prince would enjoy every bit of pain I suffered. Child or no it wouldn't matter.

A knocking sound comes from the large engraved double doors of my cage.

"Saint." A fair womanly voice calls out. "It is time for dinner." The doors open not waiting for a reply.

I pull myself up to look at another target of my fury. My assigned nanny. An aged woman with graying hair wrapped into a tight bun. A pair of glasses with golden cords wrapping around her neck. A priestess dress all the way down to the floor. Hands tightly clasped together at her waist. She doesn't bother to bow in respect and walks in front of the bed.

"Saint. Tonight's dinner is special." She smiles with yellowed teeth. Her eyes not a hint of kindness. "A sweet potato has been added to your meal. Due to the unpleasantness of the day."

A maid carries over a silver platter to my desk. A refinly detailed gold entailed plate with etched silverware on top. A napkin covering to maintain the 'freshness' of the dishes. I gracefully land tiny feet to the floor, crossing over to the meal.

"Catherine." My body slides on the stool for the desk. "It has been too long." I hear a faint chuckle approaching behind me. Cold, close to wrinkly hands, lay on my shoulders.

"Long? I saw you at breakfast." The hands apply pressure expecting a response. "Did you miss me that much?" I remain still ignoring the crone.

A tug of the napkin atop the dish reveals a nostalgic site. A tough tried steak, little meat left on the bone. Molding bread, and a foul smelling soup. Must I not forget the pristine sweet potatoe. A strong contrast to the plate. Such was how Catherine operated, an on purpose hypocrite. Sweet and gentle one moment, and cruel and harsh the next.

Ahh how nostalgic. The royal chefs cooking at its finest. I breathe in the 'lovely' smell of the food. Long time brewing emotions overflow.

"Catherine you really are a crazy bitch."