CHAPTER XI: Conclusion

ALXINFIELD, Royal Estate, Year 079 Y.D

Since the Emperor has not issued his summon, and therefore Ilayan assumes that the negotiations with the foreign envoys keep him away from leisure, providing him the time to breathe. For now, he only has to report to the barracks, and perhaps, prepare to resolve several of his concerns that might also be within the Emperor's agenda; the Duke of Keinfolk and his assassins, the promotion of his rank, the Dukedom of Venningham, and the marriage with Prince Rionne that is personally being brewed by Lady Michelle. Only a single event can already cause a tremor within the capital, and somehow, all are related to him, yet to speak—none was even born from his deliberation.

And if nothing goes beyond certainty, the summon may arrive at Venningham tomorrow.

For several years, there has been no one to ever achieve the military and social feats he might have at his age. Majority of men may be jubilant to have his blessing, yet, he is aware that he cannot possibly be worthy of all the titles and praises, also, he is not completely ignorant of the politics within the court. Rionne hinted it to him, his father also reminded him. Either the Emperor nor the Prince will remain still and allow him to wield power and influence that, possibly, might pose a threat to the throne. And whether he desires it or not, the Princes aspiring to rule the realm will pursue him to solidify their position. Inevitably, he will be involved with the royal family's power struggle.

All of these, and he still has soldiers to command, a household to manage, a territory to oversee, and a family—that is precious to him—to protect.

He is overwhelmed, reaching his wit's end. Much that he perceives a pressure of the same weight back when he was on the battlefield, only that it is of different intensity. If only so, he prefers to have a contest straight-forwardly and engage in a battle of brains only if it concerns military tactics and strategies. Plainly, he is a stranger to these political tensions. Still, he is left with no other options but to move forward even if it's hard for him to proceed on the next step knowing that he is walking on thin ice—one wrong footing might result in his collapse.

Yet, as the skies paint the earth in orange and red, seemingly, the heavy air, surrounding him also sinks with the sun. There is so much awaiting him, but for now—even at least at this moment—he is nothing but a father and a husband. Perhaps, the first and last time he will exclusively be to Eri and Laya.

Today he is dressed in a simple tunic shirt and khaki trousers, bringing his family for a stroll, only the three of them, with no servants nor guards, pretending to be commoners of which he is best.

The feast of Khie'lal might have ended, yet the sparks remain to linger in the streets of Alxinfield. Carrying the grinning Laya in his hands, he shows him around the intricate hanging lanterns and merchants' stalls selling children's delight, and although the child purses his lips to deny his greed, he knows in all certainty that like other children, he'll crave for the sweet cocoa and candied strawberries. Yet he never took the initiative to tell him, distressfully, he is much more mature and practical than his peers.

Regretful it might be but nothing less can happen in his three-year of absence from Laya's life. Most of which he is certain to have resulted in his son's disregard of his own self. And that long absence of his distanced their relationship to the point of no capacity by mere blood to mend alone. If not for Eri to raise him as a child who regards him as an idol, perhaps he is treated similar to a stranger. And although now that he had returned, it appears that there are more hindrances for him and his son to cultivate a father and child relationship.

"Son, tell father what you wanted to buy. I will buy it for you," pinching his cheek, Ilayan says.

Laya speaks no word to respond, after a moment of hesitation he sends his inquiring eyes to Eri. And the latter responds with a smile of affirmation.

"Laya is only shy, my Lord. This is his first time to spend time with you," Eri ventures.

Ilayan wishes he can believe him, only that more than shyness— reticence and politeness are evident in the child's tense brows.

"It's fine, your father will buy you many delicious foods and toys anyway," Ilayan grins, ruffling Laya's hair, hoping that his high good humour can bring his son's heart closer to him. For all the people he despised to become, it is to be a father and a husband like his father, who in both roles are terribly awful.

He does not want his own children to experience the lack of attention, support, and affection that he had when he was young as he is determined to never let a person who enters his house yearn for a husband's companionship like his mother.

When the stars completely covered the moonless sky, they have decided to return to Venningham Hall. Perhaps because of Ilayan's current status, a servant was installed in their small timbered home. The lady wears high-quality fabric and pieces of jewelry on her ears and wrist, at first glance he can tell that she ranks high than ordinary maids, making Ilayan suspect that she is not only here to serve. And that she never failed to confirm as she ventures to ask Ilayan to return to his chamber of which the Lady Esmeralda prepared herself, but he is stubborn in his stance to accompany Eri and Laya.

"My Lord, do you still remember when we first met?" Eri asks, snuggling in Ilayan's arms, as he—Ilayan—finds his own words to speak, yet none comes out. Ilayan can sense that he is not unaware of the undercurrents in the household, nor was he oblivious of his dilemma. And although they had come harmoniously in bed, they both understood that the night is meant to be sleepless.

"I will not belie my emotions, my Lord, and although I don't want to fall under the sin of being unvirtuous, still I am."

Ilayan embraces him tightly.

"Yet, I know that, for the fact that I have no right to live this life, to begin with, still, there was you who made me feel that I am also a being worthy of love."

In his arms, Ilayan can feel a warmth that can even melt his heart. There is a haze forming in his eyes, as he lowers his lips to meet Eri's forehead.

"Eri— "

"In Khie'lal's song, he says, at most one can encounter a miracle thrice in their whole life. The first time we met was my first. The day I married you was the second, and the moment I discovered that I bore your son was the third. I say this to you, my Lord, without any other intent but express my heart. Whatever decision you take, I hope you remember, that I will still remain by your side, because you are both my miracle—and my life."