2 The Point of No Return

"That lady-in-waiting of yours insinuated you were mad at me, dearest wife." a deep-toned voice called to her, "And surely she's mistaken. For what reason would the Empress need to be upset? My beloved Adalyn harbours no ill intent."

There was only one person who could make kind words sound sinister just by speaking them, and her body winced at the voice. She looked to him, for once dressed casually, minus the sword on his hips. His glistening skin told her that he was sparring with someone. His dishevelled hair and rising chest showed her that he ran.

He ran his fingers through his blonde hair, placing his sword against the table as he took a seat.

She composed herself, pouring them both cups of tea and offering him a plate of snacks.

"Wherever could she gather that idea?" She smiled as she handed him the tea, "I must apologise, dear husband, this tea must not meet your impeccable standards. They brewed it with my preferences in mind."

"Isn't it pleasant that we have a similar taste?" He took a sip, "Romaberry, honey and citrus. It's quite refreshing, but it isn't your favourite. A shame wicconaberries are out of season. Your face lights up when you eat them."

She smiled weakly, "They remind me of simpler times. My caretaker used to use them quite a lot in my youth. I suppose eating them now is like tasting home."

"That sentence implies the palace isn't home, beloved wife."

"It hasn't felt like home from the minute I entered it," She retorted as she sipped her tea, "But you know this well enough, husband."

There was an awkward tension between them.

He scoffed, biting into a cookie. The tips of his ears flushed pink, and he crossed his legs, growing irritated.

His icy glare was enough to penetrate steel - distrusting gaze that lingered on her skin. She was mostly unbothered. She sipped her tea carefully; citrine eyes narrowed at him.

"You must enjoy the company of Marchioness Shulburg quite a bit," she said plainly, "Inviting her to the Imperial Gardens is quite the step."

He laughed, "Wife, are you jealous? Milli and I have been friends since childhood. Am I not allowed to have female friends?"

"You know the significance of this place, husband. May I remind you that your beloved Millicent is a widow? You insult her reputation by treating her the way you do. If you care for her so deeply, make her your Queen."

"We both know that's impossible."

"Any woman can become a Queen and Consort of the Emperor's harem. You assume I will treat her unjustly out of jealousy," Adalyn said indifferently, "But envy requires me to care about Marchioness Shulburg and your love life, Ryland."

"Subtly is a craft better left to the masters, Empress." Ryland laughed as he dusted his fingers, "Your dissatisfaction would be solved if you merely spoke to me."

"I'm afraid this is an issue that His Imperial Majesty cannot rectify."

His curiosity was piqued, at the very least. He cocked an eyebrow, but said nothing, sipping the remainder of the golden brown liquid.

Her eyes fell to the lanterns that enclosed the space. Under the fading embers of twilight, their bright oranges stood out brightly. Glittering against of bright greens and shades of white and red, they cast a warm glow on all that surrounded them. His blonde hair shimmered in this light, an ethereal halo kissing the crown of his head made her laugh mentally.

The Golden Emperor indeed shined best in twilight hours. A picture of radiance and utmost grace that only the lovechild of an Archduchy and the Imperial line could have.

In a prolonged drawn-out breath, she sighed.

"We've been married for twenty-five years, and you still act like we just met." Adalyn looked at him with her eyebrows gathered, "I gave birth to your sole son and heir, yet you continue to disrespect me by entertaining that woman."

"Twenty-five years of marriage and you still dodge my questions. I am the Emperor of Hanafleur, Adalyn. I get what I want when I ask for it."

"That same childish mentality of yours caused this mess, husband. Is your pride made of glass? Why is it so fragile? Why must you be such a man-child and send innocent men to their deaths over contempt you started?"

"Is this about the Van Haught Expedition? You've already expressed your distaste, wife. No need to resolve to petty insults! Jaxen leads the expedition, and he is quite capable." Ryland frowned, "And the Wilburg Kingdom started this themselves. They attacked our bordering villages. Am I supposed to let that slide?"

"You ordered the execution of your brothers, Ryland." She said in disbelief, "Need I remind you that through Princess Jasmine they are of Wilburg blood? Were they supposed to let you get away with murdering a part of their royal family? For a crime of which neither was proven guilty?"

"I had evidence to suggest that they were planning a coup. The Court of Flowers agreed that execution was the best course of actions. Do not blame me for a war they started."

"If you have evidence release it to the public," Adalyn shook her head, frustration bubbling beneath her skin, "Otherwise, you are just the madman who killed his brothers and is leading the Empire to another World War. We cannot survive a conflict of such magnitude."

The thin layers of pleasantry were starting to peel back.

His burgeoning loathing for her began to show. They exchanged sharp glares - his icy eyes attempting to pierce her skin while she looked back at him fiercely. The silence around them was no longer awkward but more akin to discomforting. They danced dangerously close to the edge of an explosion - neither side truly ever willing to relinquish their trained composure.

The air was pregnant with tension.

He ran his hand through his hair, Ryland clicked his tongue, "Why don't you ever trust me? I would never put you in harm's way. You're the mother of my son. The Empire will prosper."

"We have fewer and fewer allies, Ryland. You may have the support of the noble class, but the common folk resent you. An Emperor rejected by his people is no Emperor at all. He's a fool sitting on a throne with someone waiting to slice his throat."

"Good thing I sleep with a dagger."

She gave him a half-smile, slipping on her crown, "The more you attempt to deceive me and the more of your lies I unveil, the less I will trust and support your decisions. War leaves nasty scars. Think carefully, Ryland Maverick."

Adalyn stood up to leave - crown secured and the bubbling under her skin subsiding for the moment. Her rage and fury suppressed, only waning for the time being. As she left that space, there was a sharp shatter, and the servants quickly ran to see the cause. They scurried noisily to their beloved Emperor, daring to give the Empress gazes of abhorrence.

She paid them little mind, returning to her chambers where a meal and bath awaited her. Adalyn grew used to her servant's petty mutinies. They tended to her needs but were never there to do the other jobs. The Empress of Hanafluer dressed and combed her hair - ate her meals in silence and bathed herself.

Without a Life-Servant, Adalyn was on her own in the palace. In another world, an Empress would punish them for their errors.

Truthfully, she couldn't be bothered to correct them anymore.

It was these moments she had to herself and could think in pure silence. Her tongue was no longer a blade carefully aimed at the right characters.

As she soaked in the tub, she thought of her life.

Early childhood years spent with her Maternal Patron, Viscount Blaine Havenwood only to be whisked away to the Capital City upon turning twelve. The Daughter of a Duke, but her family draped in scandals. An adulterous stepmother gave birth to a "half-brother" who would never inherit the family name. Her father was too busy serving the Emperor to give her the time of day.

Her Paternal Patron, the former Emperor Oseus Valerian, enrolled her in the best school in the city. He soon named her the only Empress Candidate, effectively ensuring that she would inherit the title. She spent the rest of her time training to be Empress, under the watchful eyes of the former Empress Felicity and the scholars appointed by her soon to be father-in-law.

Oseus died prematurely, and Ryland ascended to the throne with her in arms at twenty-two. The time after that was blurry to Adalyn. Just a life spent in the Capital City, fulfilling her duties as Empress while tending to the only child their union brought. A soul-sucking existence of pretence, smiling and manipulating others to get what she wanted.

A life wasted with someone who did not value her enough to speak the truth. A man who entertains another married woman in front of her face, without care for consequence. Her peers and cohorts gossip behind her back incessantly.

Life was so exhausting like this.

Her appetite sated and skin refreshed, but the Empress' mind still wandered to dark places. There was a nervous knot in the pit of her stomach, and a chill travelled down her spine.

What was this feeling?

She sipped on a glass of water in her bedroom, dressed in a silk nightgown. The moonlight crept in slowly, bouncing shades of white into the dark space. With only a few candles lit, she stood there in the dark - citrine eyes glimpsing the raven cawing at her window.

She walked towards it curiously, pulling the window open and petting the dark coloured bird. There was a note attached to its leg - tied firmly with twine and made of thin paper. She unravelled the note, eyes quickly scanning it as her skin became pale with ire.

"That lying son of a-"

Her door clicked open, and suddenly she tossed the note under her bed. Citrine glaze glared daggers at the robed man who entered casually, messy blonde hair illuminated by the candle flame. Adalyn folded her arms, leaning against the window.

"Had I known you were entering my chambers, I would have prepared another nightgown," Adalyn announced, "I truly like this one, don't want you to soil it."

"Our conversation earlier left me a bit restless, Empress," Ryland laughed as he lifted two glasses and a bottle of wine into the air, "Drinking with my wife seemed like a better idea than drinking alone. Unless of course, you'd deny me the opportunity."

The Empress smiled at her husband, walking over and grabbing the thin bottle. Ryland looked to her hopefully - resting the two wine glasses on the small table near the large bed. With ease and grace, Adalyn uncorked the bottle and poured the dark red liquid into the glasses. A sweet aroma perfumed the air at that moment. Beneath layers of sugar were whispers of spice - gently invading the nostrils.

She read the label on the bottle as Ryland took one of the filled cups. He sat on the bed.

"I thought I recognised that scent," She said as she set the bottle down, "Wiconnaberry wine, infused with tahoul. And here I assumed we only popped these open around the Summer Solstice."

The Emperor took a sip and smiled, "This was the wine they served at our wedding, wasn't it? I have fond memories of that day. Your dress was the most beautiful gold I've ever seen. We sipped this wine after we took oath under the crown, officially Emperor and Empress Regent of Hanafleur."

"Your memories are hazy then," Adalyn replied, as she took her first sip, "After we took swore our oaths, I distinctly remember drinking in the company of your mother. I waited patiently for my husband to offer me our first dance as the Imperial Family. But you didn't, dear Ryland. You offered Milicient Shulburg instead."

Ryland stammered, "That's not possible. I danced with you first and then danced with Millie!"

"Beloved husband, the Imperial Family of Hanafleur must wear white on their wedding day. For not only does it symbolise the start of a new era in Hanafleur's history, but also the purity of promise we swore under oath. I didn't wear gold that day, Ryland. I wore the white dress your mother and grandmother wore at their weddings."

"So what if I misremember a few small details!" Ryland brushed it off, "We're still married, wife. Fret not over small details."

In the barely illuminated room, Adalyn's citrine eyes stood out like a predator's marking their prey. She took another sip of wine, her glass now emptied and rested it on the wooden surface.

The Empress of Hanafleur was infuriated.

With liquid courage in her system, Adalyn felt as though it was time she finally spoke her mind. No longer would she remain poised before a man who cared nothing of her or her family.

The air became tense between them, Adalyn took another sip of wine and then took a drawn out-breath. She looked at her husband sharply. Her tongue was dangerously close to the point of no return.

His eyes widened in shock, staring up at the harsh glare that came from the woman who towered before him.

"So now that we've cleared your delusions of our wedding, shall we discuss the actual reason for your arrival? Surely you haven't come to attend to my pleasure? Not that you were any good at that to begin with."