[The Emperor's Private Chambers]

"You're in perfect health, Your Majesty."

The Emperor smiled, his moustache lifting up, as he sat straighter in his bed.

"Thank you, Iefyr," he replied grandly as he flexed his knuckles. Finally, he was done with the dire weekly checkup that he so loathed, but understood was essential. After all, the Emperor must always make sure that he is in good health. For the sake of his empire, of course.

Iefyr stood back with all his tools and trinkets in his arms and looked on at the Emperor lying in bed. He furrowed his eyebrows for a moment as he thought about something.

"Something on your mind, Iefyr?" His Majesty asked as he caught him scowling. "You look a bit tenser than usual."

Iefyr pursed his lips under his bushy white beard. "'Tis but a thought, Your Majesty, but you seem in a quality mental state."

The Emperor raised his eyebrows as he inspected a stray thread on his bedspread. "How pleasant. What is your point?"

Iefyr sighed. Had the princess's demise not altered his mentality at all? It made sense since… Well, neverminded. Iefyr dismissed the thought at once as his mind hovered back to the present. "Have you given any thought about effectuating the princess's funeral?"

The Emperor, on hearing this, ripped out the stray strand from the bedspread in one swift motion, causing a long drawn out SKREEETTT to penetrate through his chambers.

"Ah, the dreaded funeral," he mumbled bitterly. "Yes, well. Preparations shall be made soon, so worry not, old man."

Iefyr bowed his head, too frightened to meet the Emperor's eyes. "Then I shall take my leave. Eternal blessings and glory upon the empire of Wisteria."

"Yes, yes." The Emperor lazily waved him away. "Get out, now. Where's Gradral? I've ordered to have him constantly by my side but he keeps disappearing. Bring him in, somebody."

Bowing, two guards immediately sprung into action and hurried outside to carry out His Majesty's orders. Sighing, the Emperor wriggled down into his bedspread and put his head against his plush pillow which immediately enveloped him up to his temples.

Ahh, what a lovely day, he thought to himself as he stared up at his dome-shaped ceiling. It was painted with a lovely oil mural of the artist's depiction of the three Goddess sisters: The Fates.

The Fates were also sometimes recalled as the Moirai. Their names were Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos. Each of the three Fates, who were always mentioned as three woman spinners in Greek mythology, had a particular job, which was disclosed by their own personal names: Clotho weaved the thread of life, Lachesis measured its length, and Atropos, with her shears, cut it off. Each of the Fates was sometimes allocated to a distinct time period: Atropos was assigned to the past, Clotho to the present, and Lachesis to the future.

They had immense power, to the point where even Zeus couldn't recall their judgments.

The Emperor looked wearily at the fading mural and grimaced. He had wanted to change that for years, but never got to it. Maybe now that he had a lot of leisure time, maybe he could have it repainted to suit his liking?

The Emperor turned to his side and the bed wheezed under his weight, when from behind him he heard a knock on the door.

"Enter!" he bellowed as he sat up.

"Your Majesty, it is I," Sir Gradral said calmly as he pushed open one of the two heavy doors and looked in. "You called?"

The Emperor nodded as he beckoned him to come in. "Any letters from Irvin?"

"Unfortunately not, Your Majesty," Sir Gradral said somberly as he bowed. "Would you like me to send off an emissary on your behalf?"

The Emperor sighed and massaged his nose bridge, clearly in deep thought. Sir Gradral stood there in wait, while the Emperor grumbled to himself and then eventually sighed.

"Yeah, you do that, Gradral," the Emperor muttered. "And have someone check on Zyair's son as well. Whatwashisname, Marcello? Him."

Sir Gradral nodded and made a mental note of that.

"Oh, and send someone to check on Zyair himself. What if the old fool died before delivering my letter? Goodness's sake..."

Sir Gradral made a furtive face and noted that as well.

"Anything else, Your Majesty?"

The Emperor grumbled. "Send in someone to repaint my ceiling. It's giving me a migraine."

Sir Gradral did a quick take at the ceiling and frowned in confusion. It looked pretty okay to him. Still, he nodded along with the Emperor's every word.

"Go on, then." The Emperor waved him away as he slid back down into his sheets. "Get out of my chambers. While on your way, do let guard know to have no one wake me up till I decide to do so myself."

Even though the Emperor's back was turned, Sir Gradral bowed and left as quickly and swiftly as possible. He mumbled to the two guards stationed outside his room about the Emperor's order and then walked off to prepare the emissaries.

✿

As Elder Physician Iefyr walked weakly down the corridors with his instruments in hand, he heard footsteps other than his own from not far ahead. Slowly, a gorgeous red head of hair came into view, glowing beautifully like a ruby in its brightest state. Soon, when the person came closer, the physician- who was short of sight- gasped and bowed hastily, dropping some of his instruments in the process.

"Oh, dear! Let me aid you," Yvonne exclaimed as she ran forward and bent to pick up the things.

"But my lady, you mustn't!" Iefyr tried to bend down to gather his belongings himself but due to his old age, he couldn't go past a 50 degree angle. "Oh dear," he mumbled worriedly, his white eyebrows stuck together with concern. "You didn't have to do that, my lady."

"It's absolutely fine," Yvonne said as she stood up and handed the man his things after which she straightened the folds of her dress to ease out any wrinkles. Though helpful, she was still a lady after all. "Say, who might you be, elder?"

Iefyr the physician bowed slightly. "'Tis I, head physician to the Klaern family, my lady. Iefyr Eldar is my name."

Ahhh, Yvonne thought to herself, so this is the guy. She was back on her way to her chambers after meeting with Vance. Of course, she had wanted to talk to the head physician in the first place, but her quota of the day was done for and she just wanted to go fulfill her beauty sleep. As most ladies do. But here he was, Mister Head Physician at her service.

Yvonne smiled sweetly as she tried to hide her tireness. "May I address you as Eldar?"

"Absolutely, my lady." Eladar (we'll call him that from now) fixed his robes and went about way before soon realizing that the royal mistress was walking in tow to him. "May I help you? Pray tell, are you perhaps injured?"

Yvonne put her hands behind her back and stopped in her tracks. "No."

"Then is there any other way I may help you? Though I doubt it since all I know is restoring health. How may I be of service?"

Yvonne laughed pleasantly at the old man's words and Eldar smiled, his already thin eyes becoming crescents.

"I was thinking if I could perhaps get to talk to you?" she asked politely. "If that's not too much to ask. Are you unoccupied now?"

"Yes, of course," Eldar said, raising his eyebrows. "You wouldn't mind walking with me back to the infirmary, I hope? I need to put these trinkets away."

Yvonne nodded and hurried to join the old man as he trotted back to his work house.

They laughed and joked all the way. Soon they stood before the door of the infirmary where the familiar maid was wiping the windows now.

"Done with the sweeping already?" Yvonne asked her before she went in. "My, I must commend your work ethic!"

The maid blushed heavily and mumbled out a word of thanks. In a good mood, Yvonne went into the infirmary where Eldar was putting his things back into the white wooden drawers.

"Now, what would you like to discuss with this old bodach?" Eldar said as he stroked his long beard. Yvonne quite liked the look of it, and she constantly stopped herself from touching it. Now that Eldar himself was err...feeling it up...or should I say down. Yvonne was intrigued.

"Say, Eldar," Yvonne muttered. "Before we begin, can I touch your beard?"

Eldar's hand paused mid-stroke and his eyes widened as he wondered if he had heard correctly. But by the look of the hopeful lady that stood before him, he had no doubt. He sighed at the strange request which reminded him of his grandchildren and he gave in with a smile.

"Of course."

Cautiously, Yvonne stepped forward and let a gentle hand run over the soft yet prickly white beard that almost went down to the floor. Then she stepped back, pleased.

"Lovely," she said, grinning. "Now for what I was actually here for, Eldar."

"Yes, my lady. Do tell."

Yvonne squeezed her hands together and stared on the floor before looking back up determinedly and cried, "I'm pregnant with the Emperor's child!"

There was a long, long pause.