Mother and Son

Hot tea splashed all over the floor and in between them, seeping into Calandra's nightgown and turning her pale legs a shade of bright red.

Markos stammered back a few feet, wide-eyed in shock. His cheek stung not only from the heavy force of the slap but also from the deep claw-like scratches left on his face.

It was obvious that he hadn't expected her to retaliate, much less hit him.

"You…you…" He couldn't even form the words to express himself. He still couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that she had struck him.

"I slapped you," Calandra confirmed as she called Merle inside the room to bring her a wet towel for the spilled tea.

Merle had been standing on constant standby in the room and immediately move to fulfill the order. Within seconds, she was back and the mess was being cleaned. Neither Markos nor the Grand Empress seemed to care that she bore witness to such shameful acts. Merle was actually Calandra's life-or-death maidservant and had been for years. Having been by her mistress's side since even before she entered the palace, she was quite used to these shenanigans.

The confrontation between mother and son continued. This time though, Calandra instructed Merle to stand directly at her side as she sat back in her seat, just in case her son tried to lose his mind again.

"Maybe I should've just thrown you to the wolves when you were younger instead of constantly shielding you at every turn. Perhaps then you would be grateful for the path I've so painstakingly carved out for you instead of throwing temper tantrums like a child."

The young Emperor laughed and his tone was condescending, "You expect me to be grateful for this? Mother, I have never needed your help to inherit the throne, it is mine by birthright! You may have had to fight like a wild animal just to have a voice here but you are not me - I have never been a stranger within these walls. Do not project your insecurities onto me."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop immensely. If there was one thing the Grand Empress hated, it was being reminded that she was nothing more than a stranger within these walls.

Without her late husband's favor, she was nothing. Every day she was mocked behind her back, in front of her face. She had no support and wasn't treated like a genuine Empress at all. Everything that she has earned, all the power that she now currently had was something she had to fight for, tooth and nail.

The amount of blood that stained her hands over the years was despicable. Her son was all she had and she protected him like a female bear would protect its cubs. Not only did she have to fight for power to protect herself, but she also needed to make sure her son could survive in such a treacherous environment.

The former Emperor had many, many lovers outside the palace. Did this child of hers think it was just a coincidence that there were never any rumors of an illegitimate child? It was never that they didn't exist, just that they never go the chance to exist.

Even if he couldn't see it, her husband had hated this son of theirs just as much as he abhorred her. If she hadn't gotten her hands dirty he would have pushed to make one of those illegitimate bastards his heir instead. And where would that leave them?

Calandra grit her teeth. Regardless, her son could hate her until his heart gave way. She would never reveal the truth to him. It was better for him to simply hate her.

"What's done is done," she said in a dismissive tone. "You're allowed to feel that it's unfair. But I raised you to be the Emperor of the most powerful nation in the world. An Emperor does not throw a temper tantrum like an adolescent child going through puberty and he especially does not do so over a mere woman."

Markos glowered at his mother, "You might have been just a mere woman to father when he was alive but Freya is more than that to me. She's my woman. You had no right to ban her from the palace and you have no right to search for another suitor for her."

That's right, the massive blowout between the Emperor and his mother was due to her schemes of attempting to keep Lady Freya out of the palace. Not only did she want to ban her on grounds of insulting the Royal Family but she also wanted to find her a suitor out of the country.

To be fair, Calandra had never thought Freya was good enough for her son. She had long had this in her mind to do and when she informed the Prime Minister, Freya's father, he immediately agreed. They were planning to make the news public tomorrow but it had reached Markos' ears before they could even set it in motion.

"I doubt your wife would be pleased to hear you address another woman so fondly."

"I will never love that woman."

"You will," Calandra countered, "In due time. It is your duty as the leader of your people after all. Sometimes, you must grit your teeth and bear it."

"Did father love you in due time?"

Something behind the Grand Empress' elegant and calm exterior shattered. She leveled a heavy glare and her tone was much more chilling than it was before. She stood from her seat and took long strides directly in front of Markos. He towered over her but somehow she still had the ability to make him seem small.

"At least your father was an actual man who didn't need his mommy to fix all his problems for him! He may have been the worst man I ever had the displeasure of meeting but one could never call him a terrible leader. You don't even actually rule over your own kingdom - I do - because you're too stupid to make it function."

Markos had never seen his mother this angry before but he had also never continuously touched her baseline time and time again. His father and her own position in the palace had always been a sore spot for her and he constantly picked at it tonight in an attempt to upset her.

"I could rule if you would just let me!"

Calandra blinked. Then she smiled gently and nodded her head as if she had just came to a mind-blowing conclusion. She stepped back and gestured to the maidservant behind her, "Merle, give him the Royal Stamp."

"What are you-", The Emperor's eyes widened.

The Royal Stamp was something passed down to all the Emperors in their lineage. It represented true power and was embedded with a type of magical power. The magic allowed for the Emperor to not only spread out a royal decree instantaneously and represent the Emperor's words but it could also be used as a type of branding device. It could imprint orders that could not be defied, much similar to the imprint that a life-or-death servant had but was temporary and wore off after the order had been fulfilled.

His mother had actually never even let him see the Royal Stamp up close and now she was suddenly giving it to him? Had he finally gotten through to her?

"I've just realized that you're right." Calandra was still all smiles as she took her seat again, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back. "How could I possibly know if you're capable of ruling and you've never been given true power before? So there, take it."

Merle came back into the receiving room rather quickly, holding a small brocade box with many intricate designs glittering in gold. Markos looked up at his strangely calm mother once again and then gently took the box from the maidservant's hands.

He slowly opened it and took the stamp out. It was a small, largely gold stamp. It was cold at first but soon began to emit a small amount of heat. This was the actual royal stamp. He still couldn't believe it, "Are you really giving this to me? And what about Freya?"

His mother shrugged as if it no longer concerned her. "Do whatever you see fit. Until the hunting festival next month, I won't step out to help you any longer. If you believe you can rule then who am I to stop you? You are the Emperor after all."

If the Emperor had been smarter, maybe he would have realized the double subtle threat in her words and actions. But, since birth, he had never been a particularly smart man that could navigate palace schemes like his mother. So, he simply took her words at face value.

A while later, when Markos finally left the room cradling the little brocade box, Merle looked at the Grand Empress in apparent worry.

"Your Highness, are you sure this is alright?" She asked.

Calandra simply shook her head and sighed. "He has to learn the hard way, Merle. I can't possibly keep being so soft on him."

"But at the hunting festival-"

"I said it's fine." Calandra sharply cut her off with a brief glare. Her eyes went down to her wrist where he had so roughly grabbed her earlier. There was a dark bruise in the shape of his hand that harshly contrasted against her pale skin.

With this, she steeled her heart.

He would have to learn his lesson the hard way.