CHAPTER 111: THE GREAT NURSERY NEGOTIATION

[Imperial Palace—Aftermath of the Storm]

Adrein sat slumped on the floor, crown tilted, robes disheveled, and dignity nowhere to be found. The throne room looked like it had hosted a war rather than a council meeting: broken vases, a shattered lamp, and a faintly smoking cushion in the corner.

Elise stood triumphantly, hair slightly messy but eyes blazing, arms crossed like a victorious general. Lucein leaned against the wall, smirking like the devil who knew everything, while Silas stood beside the emperor, sighing, "Your Majesty... you look like a beaten rug."

Adrein groaned. "Remind me... to pass a law banning angry wives from entering throne rooms."

Lucein snorted. "Remind me to pass a law banning cheating emperors."

"FOR THE LAST TIME—I DIDN’T CHEAT!" Adrein’s voice cracked so loud that even the palace birds outside were startled.

Lucein crossed his arms, unimpressed. "Yeah, whatever you say. I’m still on Elise’s side. Frankly, I’d believe a squirrel before I believe you."

Adrein gawked. "A squirrel?!"

Elise didn’t even blink. Her eyes narrowed like a predator locking onto prey. "So... let me get this straight. You’re saying your uncle looks like you... and this mysterious wife and child that appeared out of nowhere belong to him?"

"Yes," Adrein said solemnly, pointing at his own face like it was evidence. "I inherited my mother’s genes. And since my mother and uncle were twins, technically the resemblance could be... uh... misleading."

Elise turned to Silas. "So... when are these supposed relatives arriving?"

"Tomorrow morning," Silas replied, amusement dancing in his eyes. "But..." His voice dropped lower, curiosity creeping in. "If this really is your uncle’s family... where is your uncle?"

Adrein opened his mouth, then closed it again, brows furrowing. "You know, now that you mention it..." He rubbed his chin, suddenly looking more troubled than defensive. "You’re right. Where is Uncle?"

Silas tilted his head, thoughtful. Elise’s glare softened, confusion replacing anger for just a flicker of a moment.

The room went quiet. A heavy, suspicious quiet.

Lucein broke it with a dry, "Well, congratulations. We started this day accusing you of adultery, and now we’ve opened a potential missing-persons case. Should I call the guards or a family therapist?"

***

[Rynthall Estate—Grand Hall]

The heavy oak doors swung open, and the Rynthall estate buzzed with its usual dignified calm—until its lords walked in. Lucein dragged his boots across the marble like a man returning from war, while Silas trailed behind him, his expression unreadable but his hands already reaching out.

"It was a hectic day," Lucein sighed, tossing his cloak at a very startled servant.

Before he could move another step, Silas closed the distance and slipped an arm around his waist, pulling him close with practiced ease. "Hectic or not," he murmured against Lucein’s ear, "you still look far too composed for a man who nearly caused a royal scandal."

Servants pretended to be invisible. Not that it mattered—romantic displays were practically routine here. If the lords wanted to bicker or flirt in the middle of the hall, the household simply adjusted their schedules around it.

"My love," Silas whispered, lips brushing Lucein’s temple, "you really shouldn’t have told the empress yet..."

Lucein didn’t even blink. "What did you expect me to do? He cheated on my best friend. You think I’d sit quietly sipping tea?"

Before Silas could counter, a sharp voice sliced through the air:

"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY? THE EMPEROR DID WHAT?"

Both men froze.

Seraphina stood at the top of the stairs like a storm in a gown, her hair unbound, her expression murderous. In her arms, little Elysia blinked at the sudden tension.

"Aunt, what is ’cheated’?" Elysia asked, tilting her head.

Seraphina didn’t miss a beat. "It’s something traitorous, lying pig-perverts do when they’re too stupid to value what they have."

Elysia blinked thoughtfully and nodded. "Oh."

Silas dragged a hand down his face. "Seraphina, please, not in front of the child."

"Child?" she scoffed. "She’s a Rynthall. She should know what treachery looks like before she can even spell her own name."

But before the argument could continue, Silas cleared his throat and asked, "Where’s the Crown Prince?"

"Just left," Seraphina said, eyes narrowing.

Silas nodded, already turning away when he heard the faint sound of soft boots on marble. Elysia had wriggled down from her aunt’s arms, tiny but terrifying in determination. Without a word, she marched to Lucein, grabbed his hand with both of hers, and glared at Silas like a miniature general confronting an invading army.

"Mama," she said sweetly, "let’s go to Aunt’s house. We are not staying with Papa anymore."

Lucein blinked. "...What?"

Seraphina smirked like a wolf spotting prey. "Your daughter has taste. I’ve already arranged the rooms."

Silas froze, jaw dropping. "Are you serious? His sister and my own child are conspiring against me? Again?"

Elysia stuck out her tongue. "We like Mama better."

Silas groaned. "Unbelievable. That’s it. I’ve had enough."

He strode forward, ignoring the servants who were now pretending the carpets were fascinating, and scooped Elysia up despite her protests.

"AAAHHHHH! MAMA! MAMA!!! HELP!!! PAPA IS KIDNAPPING ME!! HE’S MAD!!!"

Lucein covered his mouth to hide a smile. Seraphina, on the other hand, cackled outright.

Silas didn’t slow, stalking down the hall toward the nursery. "STOP IT, Elysia! We are going to talk this out like civilized people! Like two mature adults!"

"RIGHT!" Elysia shouted, suddenly serious. She straightened in his arms, folded her tiny hands, and nodded solemnly. "I’m a big girl. We can negotiate."

***

[Rynthall Estate – Nursery Room]

The nursery door clicked shut with a soft thud, but inside, it was anything but peaceful.

Elysia sat on her ridiculously tiny chair, arms folded, one leg crossed over the other like a miniature duchess about to pass judgment. Her crimson eyes narrowed dangerously. Across from her, on an identical chair that looked like it was on the brink of collapse, sat Silas—broad shoulders hunched, knees practically up to his chest, half his regal backside hanging off the seat. His arms were also folded, his jaw set in grim determination.

It was the ultimate showdown.

"So..." Elysia began, her tone calm but deadly. "What do you want to talk about?"

Silas arched an elegant brow. "I think the real question is—what are you

doing staging a rebellion in my own estate?"

"I have nothing to discuss with traitors." She sniffed, turning her little nose up. "I’m moving out with Mama. We’re going to Aunt Seraphina’s."

"Moving out?" Silas’s lips twitched. "At your age? And where exactly are you taking your mother? Hmm? Do you have property rights? A title? Perhaps a trust fund I don’t know about?"

"I don’t need property!" she shot back, tiny fists clenched. "I have Mama and Aunt. They love me, unlike some people. We were going to live happily, without you because you are—" she jabbed a finger at his chest "—a tyrant!"

Silas placed a hand dramatically over his heart, staggering back on the chair as though stabbed. "A tyrant? Me? Me?"

"Yes! I read it in books!" she said with the confidence of a seasoned scholar.

"Ungrateful little dove," Silas muttered under his breath, but there was amusement in his eyes.

Then, Silas moved like lightning. One moment Elysia was on her tiny throne; the next, she was scooped up like a squirming kitten.

"MAMA! KIDNAPPING! KIDNAPPING IN PROGRESS!" she shrieked, legs kicking, arms windmilling.

"Quiet!" Silas growled, though he was grinning and plopping down with her on his lap like she weighed nothing. "We’re going to have a talk. A real talk. Just the two of us."

"I have nothing to say to you!" she declared, twisting dramatically and turning her face away, nose in the air like a scandalized noblewoman.

"Oh, but you will." Silas leaned close, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Because, Elysia, I have something you want."

That got her. She blinked, suspicious. "What?"

"A gift," Silas said smoothly, rocking her gently. "Something you’ve always wanted but didn’t know how to ask for."

Elysia squinted. "Is it candy?"

"No."

"A pony?"

"No."

"Your title?"

"Not in this lifetime."

Her little lips pursed. "Then what?"

Silas smirked, lowering his voice like he was sharing state secrets. "A sibling."

The effect was immediate. Elysia froze, staring at him like he’d just promised her the moon. "A... sibling?" she whispered.

"Mm-hmm. A little brother or sister. Someone to play with, someone to boss around when Mama and I are busy. Someone who’ll call you the big sister."

Elysia gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. "BIG SISTER?!"

"That’s right." Silas nodded, his grin widening. "But—and this is very important—you have to let Mama stay with me. Because I need Mama’s help to make you a sibling. And if you take Mama away, well..." He shrugged dramatically. "No Mama, no sibling."

Elysia’s brain worked furiously, the tiny gears nearly smoking. She turned, wide-eyed, toward the door. "MAMA! We can’t leave Papa! We need to stay! We have work to do!"

Silas leaned back in the chair, victorious, as his daughter scrambled down and he mumbled, "HAH!! A VICTORY!!!"