𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

𝟎𝟎𝟖

Despite your earlier eager resolve to show off your mana casting to your father, you couldn't seem to find him anywhere.

Your father certainly wasn't at home — his dinner had not even been made — and he didn't seem to be at the palace either. Well, perhaps he was at the palace, but you doubted that you could venture out and explore anywhere past the gardens without being questioned by unfriendly guards. With your father, it was possible to wander about for he held a position of authority — but now, you would simply be considered a trespasser.

You decided that your father must have been abducted by aliens. Yes, it was a rather childish thought that far suited a three year old, but you simply couldn't think of anywhere else he could be. You wondered if this had to do with the frantic whispering between your parents that you had witnessed a day ago, or the fact that your mother had picked you up instead of your father.

Even for a child like you, you were sharp. Sharper than an average eight year old, at least, though your senses were still rather dull from the fact that you tended to let your mind wander. But still, this meant that you caught the hostile glances as well as the conspiratorial and harsh whispers tossed towards your mother. They had been from servants, guards, and even visitors alike.

Was your imagination playing tricks on you? You had heard snatches of their conversations with the words, "detest", "Emperor," and "unfortunate" littered inside. It had made you curious, but you did not dare to pry. You had never seen your mother so tense and so cold before — not at you, for she still kissed your forehead and handled you tenderly — but she seemed angry.

You had never seen her so angry before, and it made your world tilt off axis.

Angry at the world, angry at your father. At everyone. It didn't leave a good taste in your mouth. You felt terrible, when you realised that at times, you loathed her. Despite her being so sweet and loving towards you: you still found a traitorous sliver of dislike running through your veins. You did love and treasure her immensely, and yet there were always those complex feelings of betrayal when your mother still stayed with your father, citing reasons that she "still loved him" and that she "cared deeply for him."

You didn't get it. You didn't get it at all. You were hypocritical in the sense that you yourself wanted your father's validation and love, and yet you looked at your mother with sorrow when she did the same. When she yearned for the same.

You still wanted a chance to prove to yourself that your father loved you. But you and your mother's plights were very different: you would have to earn his love. On the other hand, hadn't your mother married your father? Hadn't she already earned it? So why was there so much fighting?

In hindsight, the your mother and you were much more alike than you had given yourself credit for. You both wanted a happy family. Her, a tangible thing, and you, an illusion. In the future, you would chide your former self and your old immaturity.