Emperor Sigmund turns to Duke Sieren in the next second, his mind made up about something.
"Have the date for Aspen's conferment ceremony set. I want it ready to be held within a month. It should be a grand celebration as the nation greets their first and only crown prince."
His voice is laced with both determination and giddy happiness, a fact that dims the satisfaction humming beneath Aspen's skin for gaining the advantage he came along for.
But he doesn't let it show. He keeps the pleased smile on his face, stretching his lips up just enough to look unassuming.
"Yes, Your Majesty. I shall see to it at once." Duke Sieren bows once, before stepping aside to make a call to what must be the relevant departments involved in the conferment ceremony's logistics.
Aspen tilts his head just slightly when he sees the emperor turn back to him with a complicated expression on his face.
Instead of waiting for the old fart to open his mouth and spill the beans, he speaks up first.
"My apologies for getting us sidetracked. Was there not a previous topic you were about to discuss, Your Majesty? I would appreciate it if you could cut to the chase like you said you would so that I can return to the pile of documents I have yet to approve in my office."
Duke Sieren's head whips around to stare in shock, but Aspen ignores the reaction to his brusque phrasing.
Emperor Sigmund gives him a weak smile. He adjusts himself in his seat, straightening up in preparation for whatever he is about to say.
"Aspen, my son... I am afraid I owe you an apology..." he begins. The remorse in his expression is unmistakable. "It seems that I have been too neglectful towards you as of late. I am sorry that I have been unable to pay as much attention to you as I would like."
Aspen raises his eyebrows for a split second before concealing his surprise.
What is this old man up to now?
"How can that be? Your Majesty has been far more lenient with me compared to my other siblings since I entered the palace. Neglectful for not, that does not change the fact that you treasure me all the same." he answers like he's on autopilot - somewhat sarcastically, and taking on the persona of a faithful and understanding child.
Duke Sieren's face pinches like he ate a sour lemon. His eyes, normally downturned but alert, are wide and horrified as he eyes Aspen with a stern expression and tries to signal to him with a hard shake of his head to refrain from being so blatantly disrespectful.
Aspen lifts one shoulder at him, giving him an innocent look despite knowing full well that his words are too sharp to address the emperor.
Fortunately, the emperor isn't looking his way to see their little interaction. However, his scent grows even more sorrowful.
"That is no excuse on my part. As your father, I should have put to rest any rumours that sprung up about you to tarnish your reputation immediately."
Emperor Sigmund's face suddenly twists into a sneer.
"I have been too trusting of the nobles not to stir up trouble. Those arrogant fools seem not to know their place even after all this time."
Then he softens slightly, turning his gaze to Aspen.
"But there will be no more of that. Today, I shall offer you a boon that you will no doubt find advantageous in your pursuit of the throne."
"And what boon is Your Majesty referring to?" Aspen feigns interest in the topic at hand, feeling little else but apathy regarding this so-called important matter at hand.
If it makes the emperor feel this satisfied with himself, then it can't be anything good.
Aspen has learnt long ago that getting his hopes up about the things he desires is but a fool's decision, at least while he's within the walls of the palace. Anything he might want has either ascended to the skies above or remains an untouchable dream he can only fulfil after he has taken the throne.
Besides, no living person, let alone the emperor, can ever give him what he truly wants. The dead will remain dead, no matter how fervently he prays for them to return.
Emperor Sigmund gestures for him to come closer with a wave of his hand. He seems almost excited as he watches Aspen obey him and take a few steps forward.
"The doctors who examined you after your unexpected rut have brought up a concern that has slipped my mind these past few years. They advised me that the abnormality in your cycle might be due to the absence of a mate. I know that you have high standards, son, and it has made it difficult for you to find a partner all this time. As your father, it is only right that I protect you from the repercussions of going mateless for so long."
Aspen feels his blood turn to ice in his veins at the words spoken to him.
All of a sudden, it seems as though the scent permeating from every pore on the emperor's body is as poisonous as a deadly viper. A visceral, instinctual disgust rises in Aspen's chest, the heaviness of it putting pressure on his slowly beating heart, making him feel nauseous.
Time seems to slow as he watches the emperor's mouth move in accordance to the words he's saying, and his ears ring with it all. Unpleasantly so.
Not this motherf*cker too.
Distantly, he recognises that the emergence of his habit of swearing indicates that his patience is reaching its limits.
But he can't seem to find it in himself to care. Not when his blood is boiling again after being frozen over like the depths of hell itself.
Emperor Sigmund prattles on, unaware of Aspen's growing ire as he claps his hands together as though announcing a particularly joyful piece of news.
"I have been at my wit's end searching the country for a suitable omega who will match up to your tastes. But fate must have taken pity on me, for Duchess Arwan has sent me a letter extending a marriage proposal. She wishes to introduce her second son to you, with the intention of cementing an engagement eventually!"
With a flourish of his hands, Emperor Sigmund pulls an envelope out from the inside of his neatly pressed blazer. His smile is nearly blinding as he hands it out to Aspen.
"Here, son. Take a look. The House of Arwan has long since retreated from the spotlight in the capital. But their status as one of the founding houses of our country have allowed them to remain powerful pillars of high society. Duchess Arwan used to be a princess in a neighbouring country before she married into House Arwan, which possesses one of the purest and most noble bloodlines in the entire country. Their omega son is rumoured to be quite the beauty, and I just knew that this was the work of fate."
Aspen stares down at the letter in the hand stretched out to him, glaring at it like he would a pile of dirt in the corner of a rat-infested nest.
The emperor either doesn't notice or pretends not to notice the tense silence that has suddenly befell the atmosphere, and instead attempts to reach for Aspen's arm.
"Come, open it quickly and see for yourself! This is the best gift I can offer you at this moment."
But Aspen has no need for such a gift. It is a disgraceful attempt at getting into his good graces, and Aspen has half a mind to slap the smile off that hideous face.
Before his brain can think to process the emperor's ludicrous drivel, words are already tumbling from his mouth.
Flatly, and with a voice devoid of emotion, he speaks.
"I don't want it."