Tate looked in the mirror as he finished dressing. He didn't have a manservant since he'd always dressed himself. He was uncomfortable with someone else dressing him and picking out his clothes. A few years ago when he'd returned to this house his mother had fought him on it insisting he needed a manservant. However, Tate had held firm and after a few weeks of proving to his mother that his own fashion sense was not a disaster and that he came out of his room every morning looking presentable, she'd relented.
Tate never took much stock in how he looked. He was muscular, that was a given in his profession even without a dragon he was a soldier. His hair was something of a light shade of blond that looked almost ashy. His eyes were a brown so light they were almost gold. He supposed his face was alright looking, he'd never heard any complaints, but nor had he received an abundance of compliments. His looks were a little different than the rest of his family. His father had medium brown hair and matching brown eyes. His mother had golden hair and green eyes. Dane had their mother's hair but their father's eyes. Some might even question if Tate was related to the Delmont's if you were only looking at coloring, but his face, height, and build were so similar to his father and brother that it could not be mistaken.
Dressed, and presentable in the most casual clothes that he could get away with visiting the palace he set off. He skipped the dining room instead choosing to have his breakfast out. He wasn't ready to see his mother yet.
He rode his horse again and was largely ignored. Truthfully, he was quite famous. He didn't know this but since his looks were easy to pick out in the crowd he was constantly recognized, but just as much as the commoners were in awe of him, they also had a healthy dose of fear and respect. After all, this was the man who had ridden a dragon into war at fifteen. Stories had been told far and wide of the times he decapitated ten foes at once, or when he'd burned a traitorous merchant, who'd been aiding the enemy, alive. Tate thought he was innocuous, but in reality, he was avoided because of his notoriety.
He had stopped to buy a few buns for his breakfast from a blushing shop girl, which he ate as he rode. When he arrived at the palace he was escorted directly to the outer sitting room of the Emperor's chambers. Tate took a seat, among the attendants who were not helping the Emeror dress this morning and waited.
It was quite a long time before the Emperor emerged fully dressed in what looked to be an outfit that would be very annoying to wear, but he supposed the Emperor was used to having to suffer in that many layers and embellishments. His godfather approached him with a rare smile, that Tate knew was one he only wore in private. "Tate," he greeted informally, "come." The Emperor led the way as he followed behind him out of the room. A gaggle of attendees tripped over themselves to follow. When they exited the room two of the four guards posted at the door broke off and flanked the Emperor.
They wound through the maze of halls a short distance to a private dining room. It was a small room of the palace but it dwarfed their family dining room at home. The large table had only two places set. The Emperor took his place at the head of the table and gestured for Tate to sit next to him at the empty place setting.
"Have you eaten?"
"Um, I had some buns."
The Emperor nodded and snapped his fingers. Instantly the doors opened and servants bearing many covered dishes entered. It looked so delicious that Tate found himself indulging in a second breakfast. Thus began a long, leisurely, and quiet breakfast. Once they were done and the dishes were cleared the Emperor stood and led him to the adjoining sitting room. It was a very small room for the palace, cozy even. That word felt silly to describe any room in the Imperial palace but it was what it was. The room was decorated in dark green velvet and tapestries of different pastoral scenes. The room also boasted three huge windows letting in a large amount of warm sunlight. The Emperor sat in a comfortable looking armchair and Tate chose a small plush sofa across from him.
"I'm sure you're wondering why I called you back today." The Emperor began.
Tate nodded.
The Emperor looked at the few servants and attendants who had followed them in the room and flicked his hand, a gesture for "get out."
They all bowed and left looking a little rejected, but once they left Tate observed his godfather relax. He had not often seen the man at ease. The emperor reached into the inside of his outer robes where there seemed to be a hidden pocket. He withdrew a sheaf of neatly folded papers and wordlessly handed them to Tate.
When Tate unfolded them he was at first surprised by how meticulously written they were. It was all handwritten and he wondered what poor scribe had stayed up into the night to pull all of this information together. Included was a hand-drawn map to the secret location the Emperor wanted Tate to smuggle the girl to. It was so detailed that if he got lost it would be because he was an imbecile. On the next page were instructions for how the household and staff should be set up to maximize safety and efficiency. The third page was an outline of the allowed yearly budget for the residence, along with how the funds would be delivered, and how the Emperor wanted him to go about purchasing supplies so as not to give away their location. Tate had never expected something this detailed, and it confused him somewhat.
"The training program I leave to your discernment, but I trust everything else I have provided is clear and in order."
Tate could do nothing but nod, stupified. "Wh-" He trailed off. The Emperor gave him an encouraging nod. "Why are you going through this much trouble, godfather? I don't see why you needed to oversee this so personally."
The Emperor sighed and looked out the window. His lips were still twitching with delight that Tate had addressed him so informally. "It's partly because I truly don't want anyone else to know this information. I believe that this is the best way to protect you and that child." Tate had to school his face, it was a nice sentiment but he was distrustful that it was a true one. "You may not believe this but I am rather sorry towards you, Tate. I know that you have borne a great weight in my name and in the name of the Empire at a young age. It is my doing that you were forced to grow up so quickly and experience tragedy and war so young. It was," He paused as if searching for the right word, "agonizing. The choice to dispatch you to the war, I mean." Again Tate wanted to hear truth in those words but a part of his mind couldn't let go of the feeling that the sentiment wasn't as sincere as his godfather wanted him to believe.
There was a long pause as both men sat in their thoughts. Growing up the Emperor had written to him at the Academy, occasional letters of encouragement. They did not match his mother in their emotional weight and were always delivered with no sender but he had known who they were from and he had been grateful. For most of his life, he'd been delighted by such attention from the Emperor, but that had all changed in the war. He'd tried long and hard not to feel used as he was tossed into the world of war. However, over time the dazzle of the Emperor had faded for him. Each letter sent to him had felt placating and full of sweet and syrupy flattery that made him stiffen instead of giving him motivation or pleasure. His view of his godfather had soured but he couldn't pinpoint his true feelings on the matter.
"The second reason is that I want that child to be protected. No matter her birth she is a member of my Empire and now she is the partner to a dragon, and a rather remarkable dragon at that. Yesterday before making my final decisions and gathering the small council so early. I woke up before dawn and went to see the child. I was shocked that she was awake. At first, she was scared of me, and that dragonling is very protective, it was a little nerve-wracking sitting so close to those teeth even for me. After speaking to her for a while she relaxed enough to answer some of my questions. I was saddened by her story and wish her to have a safe place. I decided that you were the answer and that you could take her away from all the potential pitfalls of being raised in the Academy until she is strong enough to stand on her own. Once again though, I have given you orders without your input."
Once again Tate felt the nagging sensation that although the words were to the Emperor's credit they didn't feel right somehow.
Tate shook his head. "You are Emperor you don't need my input."
The Emperor smiled. "You are correct, but this time I'd like it anyway, even if it changes nothing. I called you here this morning to go meet the child and talk to her, once you are done interviewing her I want to know your honest opinion of your new assignment."
"What will that gain?"
The Emperor shrugged. "Nothing of course but to either ease my mind or make me properly feel my guilt at sending you away from your loved ones for the third time." He smiled and then bowed his head dramatically to show his remorse. Too staged, Tate thought.
"I also want to know your thoughts on the girl." He seemed about to say something else but he stopped himself, "Anyway, go meet the child. You will be spending the next five years together at any rate."
After that, his audience with the Emperor was over and he was led by a single servant to another part of the palace entirely. It was towards the servant's wing but not quite all the way there and was a set of apartments for visiting nobles from smaller houses. He was led to the one at the very end of the hall and the door was opened for him. There was a very small child sitting with her back to the door. Something about her seemed familiar to him but he'd only seen her that one time and she'd been covered in filth. Her hair was pitch black and seemed to be straight now that it was washed and clean. She heard the door open and the sound made her turn her head slightly. He saw her tiny profile and something in his chest squeezed. The Dragonling peeked around her arm, it really was a stunning color, a shiny off-white, almost like a pearl.
The maid cleared her throat. "Aliya, you have a visitor."