Location: Imperial Court
The atmosphere in the Imperial Court was tense, the kind of tension that settled heavily, like a storm cloud waiting to break. Normally, Raphael's presence would serve as a steadying force—an Emperor known for listening carefully, offering personal advice, and ensuring that the court's deliberations resulted in real solutions rather than hollow words. Raphael sat on his throne, his expression carved from stone, as the day's deliberations stretched far beyond his patience. Typically, he would retreat early to confer privately with Dion and Valen, but today the court lingered, its discussions dragging endlessly into pointless formalities without actual substance.
Duke von Shelb, once Raphael's companion in youth, stepped forward with a detailed report on the red-sky and red-fog incident. The Duke had traveled all the way from the Armond estate to the capital, having dutifully stayed back at Armond to aid them instead of returning to his own estate after the red-sky and red-fog incident, an act of diligence that might have earned Raphael's respect in another time. But now, as the Duke spoke, Raphael's indifference was palpable.
"Your Majesty," the Duke began, bowing deeply. "The aftermath of the red-sky and red-fog has revealed vulnerabilities in our regional defenses. My report outlines recommendations for bolstering supply chains and fortifying borders—"
Raphael's crimson eyes, sharp and unyielding, fixed on the Duke, though his mind wandered. Once, he had admired the man. He had seen how the Duke shielded his third son from the scorn of the aristocracy and had hoped he would offer the same shelter to Magda, a comfort Raphael could not provide within the harsh scrutiny of the court. He had even allowed the Duke to foster Flora, the child Raphael himself could not accept as his own, thinking she would thrive under a father's care. When Magda married into the Duke's family, Raphael believed the Duke would extend the same love to her, now a closer relative as a daughter-in-law. But all he saw was the Duke propping up Flora, making Magda seem like a failed comparison. The realization stung deeper than Raphael wanted to admit. It made him realize that only he could truly be Magda's father. No one else could understand her or care for her the way he could. The Duke's actions cemented one truth in Raphael's mind: he was indispensable to Magda, and she needed him in ways no one else ever could.
The courtiers around the hall shifted uneasily. Lord Roderic leaned toward Lady Halvora, his whisper barely audible but weighted with curiosity. "The Emperor's mood is strange today. The Duke might as well be speaking to a wall."
Lady Halvora arched a brow, her fan fluttering idly. "Perhaps His Majesty has little patience for empty gestures, Lord Roderic."
"And with these measures," the Duke concluded, his tone expectant, "we could mitigate the risk of future calamities."
Raphael inclined his head slightly, his voice measured and cold. "Your diligence is noted, Duke von Shelb." Normally, he would have followed such a statement with probing questions or a quiet remark that demonstrated his genuine care for the people affected by the calamity. But today, no such follow-up came, leaving the room heavy with unspoken tension.
The room seemed to hold its breath. The courtiers exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the Emperor's lack of enthusiasm, a sharp contrast to his usual decisiveness.
The Duke hesitated, his hands tightening around the edges of the report. "Your Majesty, if I may—"
"You may not," Raphael interrupted, his tone soft but final. "The court has heard enough for today."
The Duke's jaw tightened, but he bowed low, stepping back into the ranks of the aristocracy. The other courtiers watched in silence, their unease growing as Raphael's indifference became increasingly apparent.
As the court moved on to discuss financial aid and strategies for defense against future threats, Lord Emric spoke with caution, his words trembling under the weight of Raphael's cold stare. "Your Majesty, if we could allocate additional resources to the northern front…"
Raphael's voice cut through the hall, smooth yet unyielding. "Resources will be distributed as necessary. Wastage will not be tolerated."
Lady Halvora lowered her fan slightly, her sharp gaze fixed on the Emperor. "I fear the Duke overestimated his rapport with His Majesty," she whispered to Lord Roderic. "This court feels colder than it has in years."
As the court's proceedings dragged on, Raphael's thoughts strayed to Micheal. Reports from Calista had detailed the boy's breakdown after the battle, the shattering grief he had displayed when he believed Magda was lost. It wasn't a response born of obligation or mere concern—it was raw, unguarded pain. That kind of reaction couldn't be faked. For all his eccentricities, Micheal had proven one thing: he cared for Magda, perhaps even as deeply as Raphael himself. The realization, though grudging, softened Raphael's view of the boy, if only slightly.
The deliberations finally concluded, the courtiers dispersing with muted whispers about the Emperor's mood. Raphael rose, his black cloak trailing behind him like a shadow as he left the throne room.
Valen, ever perceptive, caught up with him in the corridor. "Your Majesty, your demeanor today was… noticeable."
Raphael didn't break stride. "The court wastes time on platitudes. Let them notice."
"And the Duke?" Valen pressed. "Your disinterest was… uncharacteristic."
Raphael paused, his crimson eyes narrowing. "The Duke seeks favor, not solutions. I have no use for such things."
Valen inclined his head, understanding the dismissal. "As you wish, Your Majesty."
As Raphael strode toward his chambers, his thoughts darkened. The weight of his responsibilities pressed against him, but it was the realization of his own failings—as a father, as a protector—that gnawed at his soul. For now, there was no solace in the throne, no comfort in the court. There was only the shared domain, where a child's laughter could temporarily quiet the storm within him.
Location: Shared Domain
Raphael stepped into the shared domain directly from the court, his shoulders still heavy with the weight of the day. The familiar golden light of the realm surrounded him, a stark contrast to the cold indifference of the throne room. Usually, after court, he would visit Magda's physical body, ensuring her comfort before returning to the shared space. But today he was late, and the thought of his child's soul wandering in search of him, possibly crying in his absence, was unbearable.
The shared domain operated on an accelerated time flow, but Raphael had meticulously aligned its pace with the real world whenever he left. The idea of missing years of his daughter's life because of an unchecked time discrepancy was a nightmare he would never allow. He had made it a habit to leave only when Magda fell asleep, ensuring he would never miss her waking moments.
But today was different.
Magda wasn't in her usual spots. The bed under the willow tree, which he had conjured to be her haven, was untouched. The enchanting classroom he had crafted for her lessons was eerily empty, and the vast library he had built to replace the broken one from her nightmares stood silent. The brook where they often played shimmered quietly, but there was no sign of her there either.
Panic gripped him as his mind raced. The shared domain was shaped by both his and Magda's subconscious, and he had encountered sinister manifestations before—twisted remnants of her fears, like the broken library or the monstrous forms of barking dogs and a two-headed devil cousin. He had destroyed those threats before they could absorb enough mana to materialize, but what if something had escaped his notice this time?
"Magda!" he called, his voice carrying a sharp edge of fear. He moved quickly, scanning every corner of the domain. The golden light that usually felt warm and reassuring now seemed oppressive as his imagination conjured worst-case scenarios.
Then, in a quiet corner of the realm, he saw it.
A structure that looked strikingly similar to the Imperial glass house he had built for the late Empress stood proudly. Raphael frowned. He had never willed such a thing into existence here. With cautious curiosity, he approached.
The greenhouse was similar but distinctly different. Instead of ornamental orchids, heirloom tomatoes hung from their vines with vibrant red hues. Where mystic eastern water lilies would have floated, edible herbal lotuses thrived in their place. Medicinal herbs lined the shaded corners, carefully arranged as if by deliberate design. If this had appeared anywhere else, Raphael might have considered it mockery—its design was so similar to his own greenhouse for the late Empress, yet all the rare and expensive exotic plants he had meticulously chosen were replaced with humble local vegetables and herbs. It was as if the creator had deliberately swapped grandeur for practicality. Here, it was something else entirely.
Inside, a small table was set with neatly cut fruits surrounding a single pancake. On the floor near the table, Magda knelt, her tiny fingers busy with a large poster. The words "Happy Birthday to Magda's Papa" were written in bright, wobbly letters.
Relief flooded through Raphael so quickly his knees nearly gave out. Before he could stop himself, he strode forward and scooped the little girl into his arms.
"Papa!" Magda squealed, her voice a mix of surprise and protest. "You're ruining the surprise!"
Raphael laughed, his joy bubbling over as he pressed kisses to her puffed-up cheeks. "You scared me, my little dove. Do you know what I thought when I couldn't find you?"
Magda squirmed, her pout deepening. "I'm not a baby, Papa! I was making something special for you!"
He finally set her down, his crimson eyes softening as he looked at the half-finished poster. "And it is special, Magda. More special than anything I've seen in years."
Her cheeks flushed, but her displeasure lingered. "You weren't supposed to see it until it was done."
Raphael crouched beside her, his large hand gently ruffling her hair. "Then let me help you finish it. It's still my birthday, isn't it?"
Her eyes lit up, the protest forgotten. "Yes! And we're having a party, just us!"
And so they did. Together, they finished decorating the poster and enjoyed the simple meal Magda had prepared. Raphael couldn't remember the last time he had celebrated his birthday, but this one would remain etched in his heart forever. As they cleaned up, he noticed her gazing proudly at the greenhouse.
"Where did you get the idea for this?" he asked, gesturing to the structure.
Magda beamed. "From a book in the library! I thought about what greenhouses are for. Aren't they for food in the winter? Tomatoes need lots of sun, and the lotuses like water and shade." She rattled on, her explanation filled with innocent logic and the eager precision of a child proud of her work, completely unaware of the exotic splendor her creation had replaced.
Raphael listened, marveling. She had unknowingly replicated the exact justifications he had once used for the Imperial glass house. His chest swelled with pride.
"You're incredible, Magda," he murmured, pulling her into another hug. "I need to tell Dion and Valen about this. They must know what a genius my daughter is."
Magda giggled, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck. "They already know, Papa! You're the smartest person I know, so of course I'd be brilliant too!"
As the shared domain's light dimmed to match her yawns, Raphael carried her back to the willow tree, laying her gently in the bed. For the first time in years, he felt whole.