Everyone rose from the floor, but I remained comfortably down on my knees, contemplating my life.

  It was short but intense, wasn’t it?

  Many guests turned to glance at me as they moved to take their seats. I received looks of disgust, anger, frustration, and even envy.

  In my little world of paranoia, they were nothing more than fleeting, blurred visions. The sudden flick behind the head from Dad, however, was neither fleeting nor blurred.

  I felt that one entirely.

  “Ouch,” I muttered, rubbing the sore spot with my hand.

  “Maybe now you’ll learn to pay attention,” he snapped, though his tone remained dangerously controlled. “Damn it, this bad habit of yours is going to cost you your head one day—and I don’t mean that metaphorically.”

  “Fortunately, His Excellency the Emperor is a merciful man,” commented Mother.

  “Very merciful indeed,” Baryon chimed in behind her.

  “I’m sorry. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again,” I mumbled, rising to my feet and following them to our seats.

  The hall with the grand fresco was connected to a long, plain corridor that split into two staircases leading in opposite directions.

  We climbed three or four floors before reaching the enormous box we had been assigned.

  The box was perfectly centered in the hall, with a prime view of the stage, which was several yards below us. The box had a balcony-like structure, jutting out of the wall just enough to let us see the other balconies curving around ours.

  “That is quite the view,” Bianca said, as impressed as I was.

  “I’m going to take a look around,” I informed the others.

  “Don’t cause any trouble,” they replied in unnerving unison.

  This place was massive, almost as large as my room at the Gentlemen’s Hut. It could easily accommodate twenty people standing, not counting the actual seating.

  At the moment, however, only eight chairs had been arranged. Since either math wasn’t adding up—which was unlikely—or the theatre staff had done it purposely, I concluded we’d be seeing some new faces joining us up here.

  Unlike the lower floors, the box was illuminated by numerous shiny crystals, whose soft glow reflected off the small grey stone columns supporting the ceiling.

  These columns had semi-cylindrical grooves running from their bases to their elaborately carved capitals, which offered some inscriptions I wasn’t able to read, not even squinting my eyes.

  Judging by their size, they weren’t structural but purely decorative, like the heavy scarlet curtains separating the viewing area proper from the antechamber of the balcony.

  Much to my disappointment, there were no frescoes here for me to study, but that reminded me of a question I had meant to ask for a while.

  “Why do the Emperor’s eyes change color?” I asked as I returned to the others. So far, I had never met anyone with iridescent eyes, so it couldn’t be that common.

  “No one knows for sure,” Father answered, speaking cautiously, as if he didn’t want to delve too deeply into the subject. “Mainly because no one has ever dared to ask him. The only thing certain is that they’re an anomaly.”

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  “Exactly, an anomaly,” Baryon cut in. “But to be fair, they’re only an anomaly among humans. They wouldn’t be if…”

  “If I were to descend from dragons?” A familiar baritone voice interjected from somewhere behind me. “I suppose that’s what our esteemed blue-haired gentleman was about to say.”

  For the second time today, someone had appeared behind me with only the faint rustle of robes.

  This time, however, I had learned my lesson.

  “Your Majesty,” I immediately bowed before the Emperor, placing my right hand just above my heart in salute.

  The others imitated me, but he waved us off dismissively.

  “I must say, I’m impressed. Not many manage to make such a connection. I’m afraid we’ve never been introduced before. Your name is?” He asked probingly, stepping through the curtain and immediately laying his eyes on my teacher.

  Baryon, though, didn’t seem particularly intimidated.

  Following the Emperor, there were two individuals cladded in shiny blue armor, which qualified them as members of the Imperial Guard.

  “Baryon, if it pleases you. I’m the tutor of young Arda,” Baryon bowed once again.

  “No last name?” the Emperor asked, raising a brow.

  “No last name,” my teacher confirmed with a nod. I’d always found it strange that he didn’t have a surname, but over time, it was something I’d gotten used to.

  “How curious, but not that unusual. You’ve found yourself quite a capable teacher, Damyon. I hope you know that.”

  Father simply smiled and bowed.

  “Am I to suppose that I was right, Your Majesty?” Baryon asked.

  “I could indeed happen to have a drop of draconic blood, if that’s what you were implying,” the Emperor winked. “You must have studied a lot to make such a deduction, I imagine.”

  “Your words flatter me, Your Majesty. I had the fortune of consulting some rather enlightening volumes during my stay with the mages of Shan-nay.”

  “Shan-nay, huh?” The Emperor’s eyes widened in surprise.“I suppose that if anyone still knows something like that, it would be those old bookworms among the mages of Shan-nay.”

  Judging by his tone, it seemed like this wasn’t the first time he had to deal with the uncomfortable knowledge of those Shan-nay mages.

  The Emperor sat down on one of the outermost chairs.

  “Will you alone be joining us here this afternoon, Your Majesty?” Mother asked politely.

  The Emperor shook his head. “No, of course not. Zoltan is coming here with the others. They should join us soon, I believe.”

  He looked around, scanning the faces of those present, lingering particularly on Bianca’s face, frowning imperceptibly.

  Father seemed to snap to the moment in realization. “I forgot to warn you in time, my apologies,” he spoke up on my new friend’s behalf.

  “This is Bianca Edelweiss, the second daughter of the Edelweiss family, surely you remember.”

  “It’s hard not to remember one of the most important suppliers of my Empire,” the Emperor commented with a smile.

  “They managed to find a sword master for Arda in exceptional time, so I thought I’d invite her here to return the favor. I hope you don’t mind,” Father continued.

  “No, you’ve indeed had a great idea. These are the best seats in the whole theater after all. However, I think we might be a little short on seating,” he observed, counting the chairs.

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” Father admitted, embarrassed.

  “No problem! I can stand,” Bianca immediately offered.

  “You’re a guest, we could never let you stand. I’ll stand, don’t worry,” I objected, before each one of us began offering to stand just so Bianca could sit.

  Leaving a member of the imperial family without proper seating was not an option.

  The Emperor watched the discussion with his chin resting lazily on his fist, mildly amused.

  “Come now, there’s a very simple way to resolve this issue,” Baryon snapped, grabbing his staff.

  In the blink of an eye, a chair made of intertwined branches rose from the floor, definitely more regal and elegant than the others.

  Immediately, the Imperial Guards jumped to attention, pointing swords and staffs at a stunned Baryon.

  My teacher froze, frowning.

  “Do you dare to use magic in the presence of His Excellency, the Emperor?” One of the two shouted at him.

  “Don’t you know it is a crime punishable by death?”