It's Not Official Official

*Ana*

"The next order of business–supplies." I return to the list I prepared. My hands lightly shaking, claws poking into the paper accidently. 

Breathe, Ana. Just breathe. I force out a shaky exhale, licking my lips. Doing my best to calm down, not to tremble as I lift the paper. But it's proving difficult. 

My stomach knots, my feet restless. My heart pounds, my gaze flickering to the floor below the platform. Looking at all the lords and ladies fanning themselves against the growing heat. The courtroom shall become unbearable in a few hours, high noon soon approaching. 

But still I can't help but want to steal the moment. Wanting to mark it to memory.

It's the first time I am holding court–Me. Not my aunt or Uncle. It's finally here—what I've wanted ever since I was little. And it's surprisingly nerve-wracking.

I've spoken before, been part of court for as long as I can remember. But this is different. My Aunt and Uncle are not in charge anymore. They can not dismiss or ignore me. What I say has to be heard. Because I am now Empress.

Not officially—yet. The coronation will cement that. But for all intents and purposes, I am. 

And, trying my best not to let my nerves get to me, it's both exciting and nerve-wracking all the same. My brain is humming with all kinds of ideas and wishes. This is my chance to prove I will lead with order, encourage innovation, build upon the wisdom of the past. 

All that hard work is going to pay off. I smile to myself proudly. The day I can finally be the Empress I always wanted to be. To show them how I will be the best. 

And now I can finally start to–

"Ahem?"

Aunt Funda clears her throat. I glance up to see her arched brow before she looks away, feigning disinterest. Uncle Charles adjusts his glasses with a smirk. Someone below laughs.

"You were saying, Your Empress?" Funda prompts.

My stomach drops.

I didn't realize I had gone silent.

Heat rushes to my cheeks as I grip the paper tighter. Mykhol chuckles beside me—light, teasing. But I shrink all the same.

You got this. I find the edge of my shawl, twisting the fabric between my fingers, grounding myself. Helping the heat fade before I am confident to read the next line.

"We will need to send boats over with supplies." I continue, my voice firmer. "Food, bandages, weapons restock-"

"I wonder what his lordship will wear?" The loud murmur cuts through my words. My brow furrows as a weak-chinned lord folds his arms, mulling over his thoughts as if I hadn't spoken at all.

I blink. Random.

It's okay. I comfort myself. People get distracted. 

But don't let them distract you. Stay focused. 

I clear my throat. "As I was saying—"

"I heard he plans to match her Empress's gown." a lady says, tapping her chin in mock thought.

Something runs across the crowd now, making them stir. Looking to each other, not me.

"You mean the white and silver-" Someone else adds quizzically.

"Bad choice!" Another scuffs, shaking her head.

"No, I heard he chose it himself-" Another defends.

"Then, they must be fine with it."Someone hums, but this seems to split the crowd. 

"He must be bewitched then. I could never have that color."A narrow-lipped lord jabs, making others nod.. They have their heads down as if in solidarity.

I blink at them, bewildered. What—? Bewitched? By who?

This isn't important. I purse my lips, lifting the paper again, refusing to get sidetracked.

"Ahem." I clear my throat. "Back to the matter at hand—"

"We need boats," I continue, flipping the page, "so I will adjust the coronation budget to—"

A sudden outcry fills the room. Everyone is looking at me as if I said the most outrageous thing.

"You can't do that!" Girls my age and older cry out, fanning their faces against the growing heat.

 Their Mothers swoon, clenching their collars. "It's to be the social event of the century!"

"We need a grand party!" Lords demand. Their gaze shifted off me to Aunt and Uncle.

They cry in disbelief. "But tradition—"

I furrow my brows. I can understand why they are upset. But this is not about tradition. We need to help the colonies against the Bulgeon attacks. It's sound reasoning.

However, my aunt and uncle do not share my insight. 

Uncle Charles steps forward, glasses glinting. "Empress, you should consult me first. I handle the treasury, and if we must reallocate funds—"

Funda storms past him.

"Budget cuts?!" Her voice shrills as her eyes grow wide and shaky. Her hands clenching tight at her sides."The venues are set! Invitations sent! All my planning! Mykhol-"

Funda turns to him, standing on my opposite side. "Tell her."

Her plea rallies something in the crowd. They begin to cry and plead as well.

"Yes, Lord Mykhol, speak reason with her!" A lady with high cheekbones pleads

A lord with a high forehead growls. "Talk sense to her!" Others, more nod with him.

"She doesn't know what she is saying." 

Mykhol raises a hand, but even he can't help. They are too frazzled, making the room hotter because of the stress and yelling. Making sweat pour down my neck. My stomach clenches.

I'm running out of time. I realize glancing to the arched window. The sun is growing brighter, faster than I wanted.

I grip my list tighter. I'll have to dismiss the court soon. Before I can even finish. 

This is not how I wanted my first court session to go. I haven't gone over half of my list. I clench my jaw.

I thought things would be more…A frustrated sigh pushes through my lips. But I force my face to stay neutral. I still have some time. I won't leave this meeting empty handed.

I stand. "Enough!" 

My voice cuts through the room like a knife. Silence. They turn to me, startled.

"Ana?" Mykhol steps closer, but I ignore him. 

"This meeting was not supposed to be about the coronation- or dresses or whatever." My voice is sharp. "People are in danger. Our citizens are in danger. Focus." 

I pause to breathe. It takes a lot for me to shout so much. But as I take just a moment, it's long enough for them to twist it back.

"What are Lord Mykhol's thoughts?" 

Heads turn.

"Yes, what are your thoughts, Lord Mykhol?" Others join in. Hopeful. Expectant.

His thoughts? My brow lifts. Why are they asking him? Why is this important?.

This was supposed to be a meeting to cover the approval of supplies. For budgeting–not this again. I thought they would be done with that business by now. To be serious.

But it's clear…that's not happening.

"My thoughts?" Mykhol looks at me as if thinking of what to say next. But by now, things have gotten out of hand. Everyone is distracted, no one is listening. 

And the temperature is rising. Beads of sweat are starting to form under my braid. 

I hate to admit it but–

"Everyone,." I stand from the throne. "It grows too hot and High noon soon upon us." My lips press together a moment, trying not to let out a frustrated cry.

My first grand court session is a failure.

"You're dismissed." And I turn to leave first. Hands clenched at my sides.

Frustrated tears sting my eyes. My fingers tighten around the crumpled list. I barely got through half.

This isn't how today was supposed to go.

I lean against a marble column, the cool stone a relief against my skin. It won't last. Soon, it will be too hot, and I'll be forced to retreat for my bath and nap.

A sigh slips past my lips.

"Cousin?"

I lift my head to see Mykhol, a step behind. Aunt Funda or Uncle are not behind him. They must have left to change for their naps.

"What are you-" He reaches for me, but I brush him off. I don't have the patience for his antics right now.

Pushing off the column, I ask instead,

"Where is Admiral Nugen?" 

Mykhol flinches, his hand dropping. For a moment, he almost looks hurt—but I must be imagining it because he shrugs a second later.

"He's still being punished."

"For how long?" 

"Soon."

 I drop my shoulders. It's not the news I wanted to hear. Soon could mean a month, the way Mykhol is going. 

"That meeting was a disaster." I push off the pillar. "Everyone completely lost focus."

Mykhol steps closer, smiling."Not everyone, Anastasia.." This time, I let him near. However, I cross my arms before he can take my hand.

He makes a soft groan of disappointment, but wisely doesn't press. Instead, he matches my pace as we walk toward my rooms.

"What do you need me to do?"

"You, nothing." I sigh ." I need my court to take this seriously. Not more talk of dresses and the coronation."

"At least they're not thinking about the after."

I frown. "The what?" 

But like true Mykhol fashion, he ignores my question. He only flashes that effortless smile, one wasted with no one else around. Even the servants have retired for the midday rest. It's just us.

"Let them be. They'll settle after the coronation." 

Frustration rises again. "But that's the problem. I want to do something-"

"And we will. In time." Mykhol stops at my bedroom door to tap my nose."Trust me. " 

Mykhol gives a different smile this time. It's one of his rare soft smiles when it's just us. 

This time, his smile is different—softer, meant just for me. And despite myself, I relax. At least someone is listening to me. 

If only more would do the same. My heart pulls, but I rally back. 

Next time will be different, better. I try to stay motivated. It's the only thing I can do. At some point, they will have to listen to me. As Empress now, they will. 

Inside my chambers, Naska is already preparing for the afternoon rest, but my attention shifts to Bruno, the little boy peeking at me from behind her skirt. His large red eyes flicker between me and the doorway where Mykhol disappeared, as if he'd caught something I didn't.

"Hi, Bruno," I greet gently.

He stares for a moment, then ducks behind Naska's skirt, his small hands gripping the fabric. He's still skittish around me. I don't mind—I'll give him time.

I smile, about to step further inside when—

A sudden warmth brushes against my cheek.

I freeze, startled. By the time I register what happened, Mykhol is already stepping back, his face unreadable, as if nothing happened at all.

"Sweet dreams, Ana."

Then, before I can react, he turns and strides away, his long legs carrying him swiftly down the hall.

I stand there, unmoving, my thoughts catching up to the sensation still lingering on my cheek.

What… was that?

I rub at my face absently, frowning in confusion. Did he really just—?

It must have been another one of his whims. Mykhol is always like this— doing whatever he pleases. It was probably just a joke, the same way he always teases. 

Bruno peeks at me again, his wide red eyes blinking curiously.

I offer him a small smile, thinking nothing of it. He's just a child—probably just wondering what that was about.

With that, I step fully inside and close the door behind me, already pushing the moment from my mind.