Toren returned to the headquarters with his butler late in the afternoon and immediately proceeded to the emperor's private room.
At the same position and posing, Toren continued his portrait painting.
He concentrated with the brushstrokes and the color contrast, subtly adjusting hues and juxtapositions to fabricate a more beautiful outcome. He dedicated and focused directly to the canvas, pouring himself completely at the masterpiece moved by his own fingertips.
His unbroken concentration was only faltered when the emperor suddenly asked the boy's outlook on his own country.
Instead of asking any specific question to the ruler, the boy only stared at him curiously beneath a blanked soul.
"I shall extend our resources starting tomorrow," The emperor softly declared. "Would it bother you so much if I do that? I have grown quite fond of you and your paintings, but if you must stand in my way, I have no intention of sparing you and your famil--"
"Your Highness," Toren cut him off. "You must not share that information to me for I am also the country's citizen. If I knew something and kept my mouth shut, I would be betraying them. But if I knew nothing in the first place and have nothing to say to anyone, it is both a benefit for you and me. You have fulfilled your intentions, while I have not betrayed my country."
The emperor stared at his painter, sincerely seething with confusion and conflict within himself.
It seemed like there was a whole different chaos that had been thundering inside of him – something no one, maybe even the gods themselves, can never dare to touch.
It seemed so sensitive and fragile, yet strong at the same time.
The emperor understood such convoluted turmoil for he had ruled a nation himself and knew as much what humans get confused with.
"There must be something hidden in your heart," He concluded, sitting more comfortably, implying that it does not matter whether the painting gets finished by now or not.
Toren faced him, silently moving the canvas a bit to his side.
"I am hoping to fall in love again," Toren said, almost in a whisper. "Since I was young, there was nothing more I wanted than to paint. I did not mind hiding away from my family, suffering beneath some underworld, betraying a country, and even dealing with a devil."
"I finally understand why you are acting so much like a brokenhearted man. Sometimes, hope is a dangerous thing. You thought that moving forward with little hope in your grasp would eventually lead you to a beautiful place, but you seemed to have mistaken the compass of that light.
Falling out of love does not guarantee recovery at all just because you thought that when you fell out, it was from love and for heaven's sake, love can fail you at times, even at the most crucial ones. Child, have you overestimated its power? Did you think that it could solve everything?
Even the most compassionate rulers need to instill grains of fear and parameters to limit freedom. Even some gods do it themselves. What makes you think that you are so different when all you have is passion?"