The servant looked startled, but he handed it over, his eyes shifting nervously. "Just be careful," he muttered. "It's a special blend for the Emperor."
Iris nodded, hiding her revulsion as she took the goblet. She pretended to inspect it, then, in a swift motion, lifted it to her lips and drank the contents in one quick motion. The poison burned her throat, but she forced herself to remain standing, the room spinning around her. Her vision blurred, and the edges of her sight darkened. She could feel the poison working its way through her system, a deadly fire consuming her from within.
The servant's eyes widened in horror as he realized what she had done. "What have you done?" he whispered, his face pale and trembling.
Iris managed a faint smile, though it took all her strength. "Saved my father," she said, her voice barely a whisper. Her legs gave out beneath her, and she crumpled to the floor, the goblet clattering from her hand and rolling away.
Chaos erupted immediately. Servants and guards rushed to her side, their shouts of alarm echoing through the hall. Emperor Lucian, seated at the head of the table, looked on in horror as his daughter lay convulsing on the ground.
"Iris!" he shouted, his voice filled with a rare note of panic. He rushed to her side, cradling her limp body in his arms. "What have you done?" he repeated, his voice breaking as he held her close, her head lolling against his chest.
Tears streamed down his face as he barked orders at the guards and healers. "Find the culprit! Now! And bring the best healers to me at once!"
The palace was thrown into turmoil as the search for the assassin commenced. Healers worked tirelessly to save Iris, administering antidotes and using their magic to stabilize her condition. Emperor Lucian refused to leave her side, his cold facade shattered by the sight of his daughter lying on the brink of death.
As Iris felt the poison's grip tightening, she saw her father's face, contorted with worry and pain. In that moment, a surge of memories and emotions overwhelmed her. She remembered her childhood, the times when her father would look at her with pride, his eyes reflecting the love he seldom expressed in words. She wanted to reach out to him, to tell him not to be sad, that she would be fine, but the words stuck in her throat.
"Father," she thought, her vision fading. "Don't be sad. I'll be fine. I just need you to be strong, like you've always been."
Emperor Lucian's heart ached as he watched his daughter slipping away. He felt a deep, gnawing guilt, a regret for all the times he had been distant, for all the moments he had missed. As he held her, he whispered, "Iris, you must fight. You are strong. Stronger than I ever gave you credit for. Please, come back to me."
The healers bustled around Iris's bed, their hands glowing with the soft light of healing magic. Potions and poultices were applied, and the air was thick with the scent of herbs and desperation. Emperor Lucian sat by her bedside, his hand clutching hers tightly, as if his grip alone could anchor her to life.
Days passed, and Iris's condition remained critical. Emperor Lucian barely slept, his focus entirely on his daughter's recovery. He sat by her bedside, holding her hand and speaking to her in soft, soothing tones.
"You must fight, Iris," he whispered, his voice breaking. "You are strong. Stronger than I ever gave you credit for. Please, come back to me."
The palace healers did everything in their power, but the poison was potent, and Iris's recovery was slow. Each day was a battle, and Emperor Lucian's fury grew as he awaited news of the culprit. The air in the palace was thick with tension, everyone on edge as the investigation continued.
The culprit was caught quickly—a servant who had been bribed by enemies of the empire. The interrogation revealed a web of conspiracy, implicating several nobles and foreign agents. Emperor Lucian's response was swift and ruthless. The traitors were executed publicly, their bodies hung from the palace gates as a stark warning to any who would dare harm the royal family. The message was clear: the consequences of betrayal were severe and merciless.
As Iris's condition slowly improved, Emperor Lucian remained a constant presence at her bedside. His cold, efficient manner returned, but there was a softness in his eyes whenever he looked at his daughter. He had almost lost her, and the fear of that loss had changed something within him.
He would often sit beside her, recounting memories from her childhood, moments he had cherished but never spoken of. "Do you remember the day we planted the rose garden?" he asked one evening, his voice low and filled with nostalgia. "Your mother loved those roses. She said they were a symbol of our family's strength."
Iris, still weak, managed a small nod. "I remember," she whispered. "She said... they were like us. Beautiful and strong."
Lucian's eyes softened. "Yes, she did. She saw so much of herself in you, Iris. So much strength and beauty."
The days turned into weeks, and Iris's strength gradually returned. She could sit up now, her color slowly coming back, though she was still frail. Emperor Lucian was a constant presence, his dedication unwavering. He read to her, brought her favorite foods, and ensured she had everything she needed to recover.
One evening, as Iris lay in her bed, she noticed her father sitting by the window, his face bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. He looked older, the lines on his face more pronounced, his eyes filled with a deep sorrow. He turned to her, and she saw tears glistening in his eyes.
"Father?" she said softly, her voice still weak.
Lucian walked over to her, kneeling by her bedside. He took her hand in his, his grip gentle but firm. "Iris," he began, his voice trembling. "I have been a fool. I have been distant, cold, and unkind. I thought that by being strong, by being the Emperor, I could protect you. But I see now that I was wrong."
He paused, his eyes filled with anguish. "I never told you how much you mean to me. How proud I am of you. How much I love you."
Tears streamed down Iris's cheeks as she looked at her father. "I know, Father. I always knew. I just wanted you to see it too."
Lucian bowed his head, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. "I am so sorry, Iris. I am so sorry for all the pain I have caused you. I wish... I wish Brianna were here. She would know what to do. She would know how to make this right."
Iris squeezed his hand, her own tears mingling with his. "Mother would want us to be strong. She would want us to love each other, to support each other. She always believed in us."
Lucian nodded, his heart aching with the memory of his beloved wife. "I promise you, Iris. I will be the father you deserve. I will be here for you, always."
The weeks that followed were a time of healing and rebuilding. Emperor Lucian kept his promise, making a conscious effort to reconnect with Iris. They spent more time together, sharing stories, memories, and hopes for the future. The once cold and distant Emperor began to thaw, his interactions with Iris filled with genuine warmth and affection. He took an active interest in her studies, praised her accomplishments, and, most importantly, listened to her.
One afternoon, as they walked through the palace gardens, Iris stopped by the rose bushes. She reached out to touch the delicate petals, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and hope.
"Mother loved these roses," she said softly. "She said they were a symbol of our family's strength."
Lucian stood beside her, his gaze fixed on the flowers. "She was right. Our family has faced many challenges, but we have always emerged stronger. And now, we have a chance to rebuild, to become even stronger."
Iris turned to him, her eyes filled with determination. "I want to help, Father. I want to be a part of this rebuilding. I want to make a difference."
Lucian smiled, his heart swelling with pride. "You already have, Iris. Your strength, your courage, your love—they have already made a difference. And together, we will continue to make this empire a better place."
As the days passed, Iris's health continued to improve. She grew stronger, her spirit undiminished by her ordeal. Emperor Lucian, true to his word, remained by her side, supporting her in every way he could. Their bond, once strained, grew stronger with each passing day.
___
Years passed, and the memory of the poisoning incident became a distant yet significant chapter in the lives of Emperor Lucian and his daughter, Iris. Their bond had grown stronger, forged in the crucible of near-tragedy and nurtured by mutual dedication and love. Iris blossomed into a formidable young woman, her beauty and strength a testament to her resilience and the love that had helped her heal.
As Iris reached the age of eighteen, it was time for her to attend the prestigious Arcaneus Collegium, a place where the brightest minds and most talented magic users from across the empire gathered to hone their skills. The day of her departure was filled with a mixture of excitement and a tinge of sorrow as Emperor Lucian prepared to send his daughter off to the academy.
In her chambers, Iris packed the last of her belongings into an enchanted trunk, the room filled with the soft glow of morning light. Emperor Lucian stood by the doorway, his arms crossed, watching her with a mixture of pride and concern.
"Iris, remember to keep your focus on your studies. The Collegium can be a challenging place, and it's important to stay disciplined," he began, his voice carrying the weight of paternal wisdom.
Iris, rolling her eyes playfully, closed the trunk with a snap. "Father, you sound like you're giving a royal decree. I'll be fine. You don't need to worry so much."
Lucian sighed, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I can't help it. It's a father's job to worry. And remember, if you ever need anything, you can always reach out to me."
She walked over to him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "I'll be fine. You've prepared me well for this. Besides, I've been looking forward to this for years. It's time for me to spread my wings."
He pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her close. "Just be careful, Iris. The world can be unpredictable, and I want you to stay safe."
She chuckled softly, pulling back to look up at him. "Stop nagging, Father. I'm not a little girl anymore." She paused, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "What if I get a boyfriend?"
Lucian's eyes widened slightly, a protective glimmer in his gaze. "A boyfriend?" he echoed, the idea clearly unsettling to him.
Iris laughed, a melodic sound that filled the room with warmth. "Yes, Father, a boyfriend. It's a normal part of growing up, you know."
Lucian's expression softened, though a hint of worry remained. "Just make sure he treats you well. And if he doesn't, he'll have to answer to me." As if to emphasize his point, his golden magic flared briefly, his short hair shimmering in the light. "And know this, Iris, I won't agree to anyone unless I deem them worthy."
Iris giggled at his display of protective magic. "I promise I'll be careful," she said, her voice tender. "But really, Father, you don't need to worry so much."
They shared a final embrace before stepping out of her chambers. The carriage that would take Iris to the Collegium awaited in the palace courtyard, its regal design gleaming in the sunlight. Servants bustled about, loading her belongings and making final preparations.
As they approached the carriage, Lucian placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Remember, Iris, you are a daughter of the empire. Carry yourself with grace and strength. And never forget, you have a family who loves you dearly."
She smiled up at him, her eyes filled with determination and affection. "I won't forget, Father. I'll make you proud."