Mother Dearest

**Loki POV**

A rather surreal scene that would leave any Elf constantly switching between Hope, Rage, and Confusion. One High Elf and Dark Elf would be facing each other as they sipped tea with a number of human maids ready to step forward and render their services. Even an outsider would be able to tell that those very maids showed less hesitation in serving the prince Loki Drai Zoval compared to his mother Clea, who had shackles that would occasionally pulse with runes on her wrists and ankles. Her lavender hair would be extremely clear of dirt and she had a wide grin on her face as she looked at the son she had scorned as useless just mere days ago.

(Tch ... That woman sure changed her tracks as fast as ever. Wasn't the last time she smiled at me like this when I was called a prodigy?)

Loki having received next to no training on the manners of expression had a twitching eyebrow and a scowl on his face. In contrast his mother looked like she was the happiest woman in existence. Setting her tea cup down and clasping her hands together, Clea shot a beaming smile at Loki and her red eyes were seemingly overflowing with maternal affection that wouldn't have likely been seen through if Loki had been in his first life still.

"Loki my dear sweet baby boy, congratulations on getting a class you could settle with! Mother always knew you were a talent without a single peer!" Hearing such genuine praise made Loki freeze up with hesitation as he received some of the much needed maternal attention that was such a rare thing within the Palace. He knew she was likely trying to worm her way into his good books once more, but who else could he expect to treat him like this?

His mother had taken that moment of hesitation to her advantage getting out of her chair, picking up Loki and sitting him down on her lap back in her chair once more. That action alone had the female guards with hands on the hills of their swords, glaring daggers at Clea as if warning her to not try anything funny. While Clea may be restrained to the stats of a level 10 recruit with minimal training on average, she had once won a 1:10 battle against the Personal Guards of the Emperor.

"M-mother! I can sit on my own! I'm six you know!" Soft laughter could be heard as Clea was softly running her fingers through the silver locks of her son. "Fufufu, you are never too old for this type of thing. So, has my sweet Loki thought about who to bring along for your first hunt?" Just as he had been about to melt into the soft finger strokes, he managed to regain some clarity with that question.

"A few families have supposedly tried to approach me, but most of them didn't meet Sebas' expectations so he said he chased them away apparently." The second those words had left his mouth, Loki swore he heard his mother click her tongue and the temperature drop for a second. The changes would seem like they had never happened the very next second leaving Loki rather confused.

"I see, the Gyrant family has offered to lease us the services of the Dawnbringers, a B Rank adventurer team that is affiliated with them." Loki wasn't able to stop his jaw from dropping when he heard such a statement. Being a throwaway prince he had thought the most he could expect from Adventurers would be C rank. Even the Crown Prince hadn't received such a generous offer for his first hunt.

"B rank? Is this some kind of joke?" Letting his doubts in a low murmur that only Clea managed to catch he almost slapped his cheeks wondering if he was in a dream of sorts. "It isn't a joke, they even offered to draw up a magically binding contract. Mother is going to approve of their service, I wouldn't be able to tolerate it if you were to come into harms way." Loki knitted his brows together, but eventually gave the nod due to the thoughts that if they did anything untoward during the first hunt their entire bloodline within the Empire might get wiped out.

Just as Clea was about to start talking once more a female messenger burst into the courtyard. "His Majesty has just approved a meeting between Yuves Nibulg and His Highness Loki, at the behest of the Nibulg Patriarch. The meeting is to take place during dinner!" Clea had taken the scroll that carried the decree reading over it and as she did so her face gradually darkened. Eventually Loki managed to grab the decree and after reading over it, he almost dropped it. It had actually excluded his mother and even someone like him who hadn't experienced a single fight, but had been targeted time after time by his Eldest brother could tell, his mother was absolutely furious. The tea session was quickly adjourned as the maids rushed Loki off to get him prepared since they only had a scant few hours left.

**Clea POV**

It wasn't long after Loki had left when all the guards and maids that had stayed retreated when Clea had let our a single dark laugh.

(Did that bastard accept the request of the Nibulgs to keep me from spending time with my son? Could he be feeling afraid that putting me in shackles to keep around as a pet might finally be biting him?)

There was not a drop of Love between the Emperor and Clea, with Clea having been captured after being exhausted by the full might of the Imperial Guard. Guinn IV had been infatuated with her strength despite being a lowly elf causing him to take her in as the lowest concubine. The sole night they had spent together had been prefaced by a proclamation of how she would have a single chance to produce a strong child for him or he would hunt down the remaining members of her clan. Such a thought caused her blood to boil in rage. She would one day bring despair to the Emperor when her supposedly defective son would either destroy or usurp the Empire. Such was her goal and reason for living through all the humiliation she was subjected to. Her son is mainly the primary tool for such a goal, such was the resolve she carried in those ruby red eyes of hers.

Eventually Clea ordered some maids to prepare her for an early night while the aura she was giving had frozen most of them in place, their legs trembling. A clearing of the throat was all it took to bring them to action.