The Emperor was sitting on his throne with a pellet in his hand, playing with it. There was a whole sack of it in his feet, as he threw one after another into a fire that was made next to him.
Below was only his troublesome daughter, Juliet, unaware as to why she had been summoned to speak with her father in private. Not even his guards were present.
"My troublemaking daughter, the one who refuses to marry...the fire in my court. Do you wish to tell me how you came up with this, or do I have to tell you?" The Emperor spoke with an amused tone as he looked towards Juliet, who was now fiddling with her black hair between her fingers, upset.
"A youth came up with it. Valtherion Mograine, son of a regional count in the East. A brat, almost four years younger than me. You already know what the meaning of this is?" Juliet finally exploded as she questioned her father.
"My daughter, what do you think of him? Why have you not told me about this sooner?" The Emperor stood stoic now, questioning why she kept this matter a secret. Those pellets would reshape almost every industry in the Empire.
"Father! He is smart, cautious and as far as I know, good at painting and at fighting! I do not know the full extent of his capabilities, but he asked me to take credit for it; we split 60% for him, 40% for me. We both were aware that you would seize the patent; he just wanted to make some money before that." She finally cracked down as she began explaining the course of events that had occurred.
"I will not be seizing the patent yet. When was the last time you spoke with him?" the interrogation continued as the heat from the fire grew along with the conversation.
Taken aback by her father's sudden generosity, Julia recollected herself, as golden coins flashed in her eyes.
"After the baptism! He had been avoiding me like a plague; I had to resort to some means to force him into a meeting. Father, what do you plan to do with him and me? Are you intending to wed me to this brat?" Juliet suddenly realised something as her expression shifted in the opposite direction.
"Juliet, I would never force you into a marriage, yet you, as a princess, what are you willing to do for your nation?" Her father questioned her, hitting there where it hurt the most.
"I am willing to do anything. Whatever it takes. Why, father?"
"Juliet, do not marry anyone for the next five years. If something happens, I will wed you to the Little Mograine. It is a matter that you should not discuss with anyone, am I clear?" Her father finally revealed his plans, his voice not allowing any disagreement.
"Yes, father...but why him?" Juliet questioned as she panicked, her marriage on the line, her whole life. If she married someone who did not wish his wife to be a businesswoman, then it would spell a grim fate for her. She was a builder, a creator.
"Trust me, Juliet. You will see. Keep things hidden for now. Spread pellets throughout the whole country. I will lend you a hand. Now, leave, see to your matters." The Emperor closed his eyes and waved his hand, causing the fire to be extinguished, and soon, his body disappeared from the throne itself.
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Valtherion, on the other hand, stood in his mansion, sweaty, with his body creaking all over. It was not exhaustion and pain from work, but rather from training. He had been practising what his grandmother, uncle Alaric and mainly his father's manual.
All of those three stacked perfectly, suiting his body but also changing it as he was becoming more elastic in a way, but stronger at the same time too. During the day, he sparred with Dain and Luther, but at night he would practice these three secret teachings, growing stronger, albeit through pain.
The silver patch of hair was still on his hair; thankfully, it had not grown. His cousins would call him a snowman, and he did get some unwanted attention at school; however, it was all okay - for now.
What grew, though, was his wealth. These days, Juliet had been focusing a lot on him and their business endeavour. He had around four million in profit, and much more was estimated to come. Sadly, his relationship with the princess had taken a turn suddenly, giving him more headaches as she would scold him through letters for no apparent reason.
Still, everything was manageable within reason. He was sending gold bars back to his father, storing them in the family treasury, not for use - for darker days. His father had already returned to Emberfall, Mograine County and had returned to managing the territory as tensions were rising more on the border.
If there was anything that he spent money on, it was the drafting of a plan - a whole Opera, gallery, and a beautiful garden, one that this world had never witnessed. With an investment of one million, it was bound to be completed in a year. Of course, Valtherion had no intention to wait for one year; he planned to see it done much sooner, as pellets were becoming more of a necessity, rather than a want. It all made him feel good, at peace.
The Imperial Marshal had kept him busy, though; as letters towards the Emperor had become an everyday thing, it was like they were hooking up. If anything, the games were more interesting, as well as the analysis of previous battles.
"Young Master, a letter has arrived from your business companion. I was told to deliver it to you with urgency and make sure that you actually read it. A package of clothes has also been sent..." Alfred's voice resounded as he soon came forward with a plate of drinks and a letter in his hands.
What does she want now...
"Thank you, Alfred. Let's see what the princess wants from me this time..." Valtherion took the letter and opened it. His eyes widened as he began reading.
What is your brain thinking? Spending so much on an Opera? Gallery? Gardens? Sending everything to your father? Are we business partners, or are you just expecting to profiteer from me? Valtherion Mograine, if you ignore my letters or our meetings one more time, I will personally raze your projects to the ground and drag you out of the Duke's Mansion! You're acting rich, yet you dress like a bum, especially after being my business partner! Be there next time I call you. Do not worry, you will not melt; you haven't turned into a snowman yet! Do not make any drastic financial moves without my knowledge; dress appropriately and focus on your education. Do not embarrass me or stand in the way of my ambitions; I refuse to let anyone ruin what I am building, especially you, little Mograine! With that said, I now know where you work, so you should not underestimate me. Be a good boy and keep delivering letters to my Father.
With Kind Regards,
Juliet Salerios
"Alfred, burn this letter and tell the delivery man that I did it. That will be all." Valtherion stood up as his body creaked all over and took out a spear from his spatial ring. The princess had gotten on his nerves, causing him to need to vent. What better than stabbing something?
What exactly made this lass lash at me like that? Is she insane? Should I have just sent this letter straight to her father and let him deal with her?
His spear shot forward, energy rippling along the shaft as leaves fluttered violently. One stab, one rotation, a slash, a slam - each movement sharper than the last.
What does she even care about what I do with my own money? Is she my wife or something? Dragging me into her world without a reason…
He exhaled sharply, irritation bubbling.
What builder is she? I'm the one building an opera, a gallery, a garden - things this world has never seen. Why haven't I heard of any of her projects? Spoiled princess… always shouting, always demanding, always-
He cut the thought off with another stab.
Why does she care so much? Just wait, Juliet, your Maker's Night is coming soon...