Chapter 13

The sun rose on another day within the opulent halls of the palace, and I found myself facing an unexpected duty. The Emperor, my father, was away for something, and the responsibility to tend to the matters of the court fell squarely on my shoulders. Amy, driven by a sense of urgency, sought an audience with my father, and as the surrogate ruler, she directed her plea towards me. She asked for a private audience. I didn't have much to do today so her asking for a private audience seemed nothing but annoying. However, I granted her request.

Amy, earnest and armed with evidence of corruption in the empire leading to enforced slavery among villagers where they are sold in another country, presented her case before me. However, my mind, ever preoccupied with the weight of royal responsibilities, struggled to fully engage with the gravity of her concerns. The formality of the court setting felt stifling, a far cry from the ease of our previous encounters.

In the informal moments we'd share– labyrinth adventures and spontaneous conversations—I had allowed a certain level of detachment to seep into my approach to royal duties. The prospect of another serious discussion within the confines of the court seemed less than appealing.

As Amy laid out the evidence, her words carried a sense of urgency that clashed with the weight of my responsibilities. The palace, usually a bastion of authority, became a stage for a clash between formality and informality. It was a delicate dance between our differing expectations and perceptions, and it set the tone for a complex interplay of motives and attitudes.

My mind, however, remained anchored in a certain skepticism. The familiarity we had developed in our informal meetings painted Amy's earnest cause with a brush of doubt. I struggled to divorce the seriousness of her allegations from the casual backdrop of our previous interactions. The palace, a place of governance, now felt like a maze where the threads of formalities and informality wove together in intricate patterns, creating a tapestry of complexities that blurred the lines of duty.

As Amy left the court, a sense of detachment lingered. The urgency of her cause seemed to fade against the backdrop of my preconceived notions. The palace, with its regal halls and ceremonial rituals, became a realm where the clash between my casual approach to royal duties and the formality of Amy's quest for justice played out. The outcome remained uncertain, leaving the fate of justice within the palace walls hanging in the delicate balance of contrasting perspectives.

I couldn't shake off the sense of guilt that lingered within me. Handling the matter with Amy in the formal setting of the court wasn't aligned with my role as a surrogate Emperor. As she prepared to leave, I felt compelled to rectify my approach. In an effort to address her concerns more personally, I instructed one of my servants to convey that I would grant her another audience—this time in a more intimate setting: a boat ride.

Today seemed opportune for such a meeting, as my schedule allowed for a respite. Inviting her to join me, I believed the informal and relaxed ambiance of a boat ride would provide a conducive environment for our discussion. After all, matters of importance often found more genuine expression in less formal settings. Despite her initial hesitation, she agreed to join me.

While the idea of a boat ride might have struck her as unconventional, I hoped it would serve to break down the formal barriers that had stifled our previous interactions. The notion that it's more enjoyable to engage with others in a relaxed setting guided my decision. Though she may have found the invitation peculiar, I was determined to create an atmosphere where the complexities of court affairs could be momentarily set aside, allowing for a more open and candid exchange between us.

I couldn't dismiss the weight of Amy's concerns about corruptio. Despite the informal setting and the initial hesitance, I found myself genuinely listening to her earnest plea. Recognizing the urgency of the situation, I decided to take immediate action to address the more pressing matters at hand.

In an effort to temporarily diffuse the situation, I promptly dispatched individuals to investigate and handle the immediate repercussions of the corruption which led to enforced slavery, Amy had unveiled. I assured her that my father, the Emperor, would be informed and would handle the rest upon his return. It was a step toward acknowledging the gravity of her allegations and showing a commitment to rectify the wrongs within the palace.

After these matters were taken care of, we moved to talking about other things. The boat glided smoothly along the river, and I took a moment to appreciate the tranquility of the water as we navigated the gentle currents. "So, Amy," I began, my gaze fixed on the distant pond, "what led you to seek an audience with the Emperor on such a short notice?"

Amy, leaning over the boat's edge, her focus intent on a distant flower in the water, responded, "I suppose I wanted to bring change with my noble status." Amy was still in her mourning clothes so her mourning period wasn't yet over. It's almost been a year since Duke Violin died. I think she will soon shed them off and go back to wearing normal clothes.

I nodded, understanding the weight that accompanied societal expectations. "I can imagine. That was a very noble thought," I mused.

As we continued our conversation, Amy's determination became evident. She asked if she was allowed to pluck that distant flower. I let her do that. Once she got permission, she went to the edge and stretched her body. She was set on plucking a flower that seemed just out of reach. Leaning precariously over the boat's edge, she stretched her arm towards the flower, her fingers grazing the water's surface.

"I've got it," she exclaimed, a triumphant smile spreading across her face. However, the delicate balance she maintained shifted unexpectedly. Before I could react, she lost her footing, and with a splash, she found herself submerged in the river.

"Oh, she fell," my mind had temporarily drifted while I was thinking about what else do I have to do before I sleep but as the realisation kicked in that she had fell, I found myself panicking. The tranquility of the moment shattered as ripples spread from the point of impact.

Without a second thought, instinct kicked in, and I moved swiftly to the side of the boat where Amy had disappeared beneath the surface. The water, though calm, held an element of surprise as I reached down, my hand plunging into the river to find her. Adrenaline surged through me, the urgency of the moment eclipsing any thoughts of royal decorum.

As my fingers found purchase on Amy's arm, I lifted her back onto the boat. Water droplets glistened on her skin as she gasped for breath, her eyes wide with a mix of surprise and amusement.

"Are you okay?" I inquired, my concern genuine as I steadied her on the boat's surface. Amy, though wet and dishevelled, responded with a nod. Our boat ride came to an abrupt stop. Concerned for Amy, I promptly instructed the servants to fetch towels and ensure she was dried off.

"Be more cautious in the future. The flowers you sought to pick weren't as delicate as they may have seemed. Without assistance, you might have found yourself in a more precarious situation," I cautioned.

"Yes, Prince. Thank you for your help," Amy responded. Exhaustion had settled upon her, evident in the weariness that clung to her every word and every movement.

As we disembarked, the tension still lingering in the air, I couldn't help but hope that Amy would find the rest she needed, for in her voice, there lingered a weariness that spoke volumes.