Emhyr Var Emreis x Reader

Six

It was hard to remember after all these years, but you dared to believe that after conquering more land and people than anyone before him, the emperor had taken the opportunity to remodel the throne room.

It was a large hall, with even larger pillars holding the ceiling up, while banners of black and gold hung down.

Each little breeze of wind made the golden cords dance while candles flickered up in the three chandeliers.

Faces of stone greeted you as you set foot through the large doors.

You still remembered these statues.

They were still the same old faces, trapped in gestures of prayer and cheering. Some missed heads, others arms or wings.

As a child you had hated them with a passion, how lifeless yet alive they seemed. You had believed the rumours that they were real people whom the emperor had trapped in stone for insulting him.

After many stories and rumours about him and meeting his royal emperor a few times yourself, you had believed this story to the fullest.

And even though you were all grown up now there was still a hint of beliefe in your chest left.

Echos of your own steps bounced from the walls as you walked down the long hall to get closer to the throne.

It was a simple chair with wooden wings left and right. For an emperor it seemed awfully simple, almost plain.

Again, you were surprised by the emperor's choice.

His throne hall was all so fancy and lavish, yet he sat on a throne that could have been no match to the one of Radovid or Anarietta.

You stopped right in front of the steps that led up to the throne.

Colourful light spread on the floor. The mosaic glass windows were still as beautiful as back then.

The howling of the wind crawled through the cracks of the old stone walls.

Of the books stated the truth, the this place was older than the current emperor himself. It was a shame how little he cares for the potential.

His politics were said to change from day to day, like the water of a river. Yet he couldn't care less for how old the infrastructure and cities became while his royal ass sat on the throne.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath and and stroked the wrinkles in your clothes away.

You were dressed in all black and white, formal but obviously not as lavish as nobles of higher ranks.

Your name did came with a title but after the castle had disgraced your family for your mothers choice of love it was barely worth anything.

Nilfgaard was a nation of black. That's what people, noble or not, dressed in.

Black and gold we're off limit since only the emperor himself wore those colours. He and maybe his daughter who had declined the throne of this oh so glorious empire.

As you thought about how vain this was, you had to huff bitterly.

Steps reached your ears. The tips flinched.

Before entering the halls you had made sure that the ears were covered as much as possible. But even through the strands of your (H/C) hair managed to hide a bit, it wasn't enough to deny the blood that ran through your veins.

"I never thought someone would be foolish enough to laugh in my halls.", a deep, almost vibrating voice said.

It sounded offended yet unmoved by this unimportant thing.

Slowly, your eyes opened to meet the face of a man with bright brown eyes and hair as black as the fur of a wolf.

The emperor of Nilfgaard wasn't a bad looking man by no means. His face had a sharp jawline with a chin as broad and persistent that even the men of elven blood would have fallen jealous.

But even he, a man as great as himself, had one enemy.

Time.

And it started to show.

From your childhood you remembered his shoulder length hair to be darker, not as washed out and without the strands of grey at each side of his temples.

He kept his face clean shaved, as it was traditionally done amongst the men of Nilfgaard.

It made him appear younger than he was.

Yet there were wrinkles showing on his face. Particularly around his eyes and the nose.

And yet.

You couldn't help but be impressed by how he carried himself despite the age he was.

As you two locked eyes, one of his eyebrows rose.

The expression on his face was still as grim and stuck up as it used to be.

His head slightly moved to the side to ask a silent question.

With one hand on your chest and the other spread wide, you bowed to him. It wasn't a deep how, but enough to not insult him right on the spot.

"Greetings, emperor.", you stood up straight again, but kept your gaze glued to the red tiles of the throne room floor.

His brown eyes looked you up and down for a moment.

Nobody was with him. He was all by himself.

Just the two of you were in these huge halls.

It made you nervous to know that he didn't feel the need to protect himself around you.

As a man in his position, he was overly cautious. Some evil tongues would even say paranoid.

But not around you.

Why was that?

The steps of his heavy black leather boots made you glance up between your eyebrows.

But you didn't break the pose nor did you raise your head.

Painfully slowly, he walked around you to get a good glance from all sides.

It made you feel like a horse that he examined before deciding what worth it was supposed to be advertised on.

He stopped right behind you, his arms crossed behind his back.

"You may move.", he allowed in an icy tone.

The hairs in the back of your neck stood up straight.

You did as he said and took a deep breath to calm your nerves.

Why did this make you feel so threatened?

Your eyes jumped up to the ceiling.

And there it was.

The reasons for your unsettling state of mind.

An archer.

He had prepared for a case of emergency.

One wrong move and the emperor would have you shot.