Tyrant of the Ruined Sun-Chapter 171: Nights of Masquerade 14

"Do you understand your mistake?" Mikhail, the powerful master of the great and vast Boreas Empire, the oldest of the four emperors and the father of Nicholas, coldly asked with dangerously narrowed eyes to Elisabetta, the eldest daughter born between him and his empress.

"..." But Elisabetta said nothing in return, keeping her bowed in profuse apology.

"Speak." He sternly instructed a moment later, when seeing her still silent, and even though his tone never rose beyond his normal speaking voice, it still made her heart skip a beat in fright at her father’s rare show of anger.

"I’m sorry father." She meekly replied, her head now nearly bowed below her waist in distress.

"I didn’t ask whether you are sorry or not. I asked if you understand where you failed." He cruelly corrected, his tone only growing ever more apathetic and frigid, a clear sign to those who knew him of his apparent displeasure.

"I shouldn’t have spread the word of my brother getting close to breaching the third gate as an excuse as to why he was not attending the Banquet’s festivities, I should have chosen something else." She quickly answered, wanting to avoid further stoking the fires of her frigid father’s wrath.

"Incorrect." He replied, making her imperceptibly flinch at his voice, as he explained "The idea on it’s lonesome was not wrong, in fact it was excellent, perfectly serving to further your brother’s prestige among the attending guests. But where you did do wrong Elisabetta, is in your execution; you lost control of the rumours you yourself spread, allowing unknown tongues to subtly twist them in their favour without you even noticing, leaving us now stranded at an impossible crossroads, where we are forced to either lose face or taint the image of your brother, the heir of our mighty empire, before every royal head and emissary from the southern deserts to the northern wastes."

Elisabetta had no response and merely remained in her bowing form, which elicited a soft snickering sound from behind her, as her two younger sisters, Marika and Alina, who were seated off to the side, enjoyed the scene of their ordinarily flawless older sister getting scolded by their father.

"You find this funny?" Mikhail had obviously been able to hear the two’s mocking laughter, and though he usually cared little for the rivalries born between his many, many offspring; sometimes even encouraging, as he believed constant competition and meaningful clashes between worthy rivals was an excellent method to better mould his often times arrogant and immature children into competent and responsible adults; unless of course, it involved Nicholas, who he protected like a furious bear around the clock, every day of the week without exception.

Which is why their current carefree voices, no matter how insignificant or low, were so particularly grating on his ears at this inopportune instant.

"Do you think yourselves innocent of her offense? Is that why you dare to so openly provoke her before me?" He angerly spoke to them, his apathetic voice bubbling with barely restrained rage.

"F-Father... we... we... we were just..." Marika tried to answer her furious father’s words, yet they all came out in a jumbled mess of stuttered words, and half finished sentences.

"Where were you two when the trap subtly placed before us was planted? Where were your ears that must have heard of our foe’s twisted version of your sister’s words spoken through another’s tongue? Were they too preoccupied with the empty flattery of those who wish to use you for their own gain, so you were unable to notice? If your sister has an excuse by being busy handling my obligations in my presence, making her attention divided from being able to solely focus on the quickly spiralling rumours, then what were the two of you so occupied with? Tell me." He ruthlessly rebuked the two, cutting them off, as the very air in the room began to feel like inhaling a handful of needles every time they took a breathe, and they knew it wasn’t due to their father’s intimidating aura, but because of his divine blood reacting to his boiling wrath.

"We’re sorry father!" The two quickly bowed in apology as well, their faces pale from his dagger like glare, but Elisabetta, who was subtly glancing their way from the edge of her eye, knew that they weren’t truly as apologetic as they seemed, and were probably instead stewing in a seething pot of jealous fuelled rage, as their father’s words inadvertently worked to defend her.

"Silence." He commanded coldly, yet his annoyance was still palpable to their ears.

"...Father, we can’t afford any further delays, every second we spend here is another second wasted. Please, allow me to atone for my mistake by repairing what I had foolishly wrought." Elisabetta took a deep breathe and addressed the Frozen King with unbending resolution and vigour.

"Wait, father! Let us handle it! Since as you’ve said we share the blame as well!" Marika instantly cut in, her palm on her chest as she she delivered her desperate plea.

"Yes, exactly! We promise not to disappoint you!" Alina then also joined, aiding in her sister’s protest.

Hearing their words, Mikhail glanced briefly at Elisabetta, before he shifted his chilling eyes again to Marika and Alina, asking "...And how exactly would you solve the current predicament?"

Elisabetta held in a sigh after seeing this, knowing that despite him helping her a moment ago, he still thought it necessary to deliver due punishment for her costly blunder, and it now seems that he has found his method of doing so.

By assigning more responsibility to her sisters, and thus jeopardizing her position, and the reward attached to it that she has been rigorously chasing for years, which has also remained completely untouched, with no other competitor in sight to receive it before now.

Yet while Elisabetta lamented her prior carelessness that led her here, Marika and Alina were ecstatic, but before they could unveil their master plan, the door to the room they were in was thrown open with a loud bang, revealing the slim stature of a mortal maid with flushed cheeks and panting breathes.

Three of the four occupants of the room glared at her, while the last only beheld her with confusion, as Elisabetta wondered which fool would dare interrupt such a meeting, and after her father gave clear instructions forbidding any entry, which was his first command in days, after he had spent the last week cooped up by her brother’s side; yet the usually attentive maid didn’t seem unnerved or frightened by this, as she happily declared "My emperor, the crown prince! The crown prince has awakened!"

Mikhail was on his feet in an instant, before he then vanished from his seat behind the desk, an arctic gale swooping after him as he rushed to his son’s side in a frantic craze, that nearly hurled the poor maid to the opposite wall with enough force to shatter her bones, and plaster her ruptured flesh upon it, akin to a macabre display of a distorted and debaucherous idea of art, if he had not regulated his power before he did to merely push her out of the way, before shortly being followed by his three daughters.

And within mere moments that could be counted in the timeframe of a few blink, the four of them found themselves before their younger brother, with their affectionate mother desperately clinging onto her precious child, while several doctors, healers and priests were carefully checking his condition, trying not to disturb the two, especially the emotional empress, who had tears streaming uncontrollably down her pretty face.

"How is he?" Mikhail asked, his voice still as frigid as ever, but his daughters were still able to notice the missing edge it held a mere few seconds ago, as it was now replaced with certain level of tenderness to it.

"He is stable my liege; his fever has broken and all other symptoms have evidently seized to exist." The healer cheerfully relayed the good news.

"Excellent. Excellent." Mikhail said, relief washing over him at that moment, rinsing off the last semblances of agitation that had consumed his heart for the last week.

"Anything else to report?" Mikhail a few seconds later, hoping to hear the root cause of his son’s sudden illness.

"With the exception of a sudden nose bleed that occurred shortly before his imperial highness rose, I’m afraid I have nothing else to say, sire. I have failed you." The man bowed in apology to his master, his disappointment in himself almost palpable.

"Continue investigating." Mikhail commanded, before he made his way to his beloved son, sitting next to him, checking his condition again, before asking in endearment "Kolenka, how are you feeling."

Nicholas was the only one among his many siblings who received the privilege of being addressed by their strict father with such affection, even referring to him in private with his nickname, Kolenka.

Yet contrary to the norm, Nicholas did not immediately respond to his father’s words, remaining silent and fixatedly staring over his mother’s shoulder with glazed and unfocused eyes at supposedly his sisters, who motionlessly stood there, but it was clear to even them, that he was not looking at them, but beyond them, into something only he could see.

"Son." Mikhail again called to him, gently shaking his shoulder as he did.

"...Yes father?" He answered a second later, blinking a couple of times as he did, almost as though he was chasing away some unwanted thoughts.

"...Are you feeling well?" Mikhail asked again after a brief pause, where in he again scrutinized his son’s odd state.

"Yes, I’m perfectly fine." He replied with his usual energy and charming smile.

"...Are you sure?" Mikhail stressed, he had watched over his son like a hawk from the moment he was born, so he could notice any irregularity about him instantly, irregularities even his mother might miss would never escape his eyes.

"Yes father, I’m certain. I feel great with no issue what so ever. I promise." Nicholas affirmed his earlier words, again assuring his overprotective father of his health with a helpless smile.

"If you say so." Mikhail eventually nodded, chalking up his earlier state to mere fatigue after wrestling with such a sickness for a whole week.

Yet only Nicholas knew of what was truly happening with him, as he was forcibly tucked back into the covers he’d been bound to for so long now. 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

But while the northern royal family was busily marinating themselves in merriment, my own family and I were seated around our daily breakfast table, enjoying the usual array of delicacies prepared by both our own chefs and those provided to us by the Astrapi Kingdom, when I and almost everyone else present jumped in surprise, exclaiming "WHAT?!"