Chapter 31: Don’t provoke Damian (1)

Astana threw himself into the chair at his desk. He began to believe that being close to the Emperor was the biggest mistake he had ever made. In two weeks, he was unable to return home or visit his friends. Before provoking Damian, he was allowed to go home every evening, but now he had so much work that it seemed endless. 

He understood why Damian accused him of moving papers; he no longer considered what he did to be work. 

The Emperor had finished his daily tasks and was now focused on resolving the Ministry of Magic and Claymore pilot site issue. Gabriel caused a commotion among government employees by calling them out for not doing their jobs. He was correct; most departments have increased their work indicators and are watching Damian terrorize those responsible for Ashmont's pilot.

Astana stood up from his chair, poured himself some water from a pitcher, and checked his watch. Damian would be back in the central office in less than half an hour, where he would need to prepare paperwork for count Julian Ebon, the current Minister of Magic and Magic Exploration. 

Astana took a deep gulp of cold water, the refreshing liquid providing a brief respite from the weight of the looming tasks. He let out a breath, his gaze drifting to the stack of documents on his desk. The usual neatness of his workspace had long since dissolved into a chaotic pile of papers, each one more urgent than the last.

The heavy oak doors to the imperial office creaked open, and Damian entered, commanding immediate attention. His dark cloak billowed behind him as he entered, flanked by the captain of his guards, a tall, imposing figure whose sheer stature exuded authority. With a sharp gaze, the captain scanned the room to ensure that everything was in order. Behind him, a few soldiers stood in silence, expressions neutral but alert, stationed just outside the door, ready to respond to the slightest command.

Damian furiously unclasped the robe's gold brooch and threw the robe on one of the chairs. 

'Shit, he's mad. God damn it.' Astana reflected as he bowed to the Emperor. 

"Rise." Damian said short. He stopped in front of his desk, the captain of guards, Leslie Decker, was keeping his stance in the room by the door. 

Astana straightened quickly, his mind already racing over possible explanations for Damian's bad mood. The Claymore pilot site? The Ministry of Magic? Or had something unexpected come up? He swallowed hard, his hands itching to sort through the papers on his desk, if only to keep himself busy.

Damian, however, wasted no time. He placed his gloved hands flat on the desk, his piercing gaze fixed on Astana. "Was Count Ebon summoned?" he asked, his voice a low command rather than a question.

Astana straightened, fighting the urge to sigh. "Yes, Your Majesty. He's expected in the imperial office in thirty minutes." Damian gave him the honor of using his first name in private, but with the captain of guards present, he kept proper manners. To be honest, he was still afraid of Damian, even more so than before.

"I've prepared all the documents and data necessary. He postponed this meeting for two weeks. Initially, he was required to attend a private hearing for his negligence with the Ashmont Pilot Project the following day, but he found different excuses or it conflicted with your majesty's schedule. 

Damian's gaze hardened, his irritation even more evident at the mention of Count Ebon, but only for a moment. "I'll review them before the meeting. Don't worry about that. Focus on the other matters. Keep the diplomatic convoy from Paisian Kingdom under watch. They would bring Princess Anya with them."

Astana exhaled quietly, nodding. "Understood."

Damian turned his attention to Gabriel's report, flipping through the pages with sharp, precise movements. The room was silent except for the rustle of parchment and the distant ticking of the clock mounted on the far wall. His gaze darkened as he read, and Astana could see the tension in his posture.

"Gabriel didn't hold back," Damian muttered, almost to himself. His fingers tapped against the desk in a slow, deliberate rhythm. "He outlined every failure, miscalculation, and act of incompetence with surgical accuracy."

Astana remained still, knowing better than to interrupt.

Damian closed the report and exhaled through his nose. "And the Ministry?"

Astana quickly straightened. "They scrambled to respond the moment the report went public. Most departments increased their activity to cover for past inefficiencies, but it's clear they were caught unprepared. I also reviewed Gabriel's findings; everything appears to be in order, but I believe he left out some details."

Damian's gaze snapped to him. "He left out details?"

"Yes," Astana said carefully. "The numbers are correct, but there are inconsistencies in the financial records. It's possible he didn't have access to the full picture, or he's withholding something for later."

Damian leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple. "That man…" A smirk ghosted over his lips before vanishing just as quickly. "He knows exactly what he's doing."

Astana nodded. "Do you want me to investigate further?"

Damian considered it for a moment before shaking his head. "Not yet. Focus on the immediate tasks. Ebon first. Then the diplomatic convoy."

A knock at the door interrupted them. A palace attendant stepped inside and bowed.

"Your Majesty, Count Julian Ebon, has arrived."

Damian's smirk returned, colder this time. "Perfect. Let him in."

Astana quickly moved to stand to the side as the doors swung open, revealing Count Julian Ebon. The Minister of Magic and Magic Exploration stepped inside, his expression carefully composed, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed his unease.

The room seemed to grow colder as Damian gestured to the chair across from his desk.

"Sit," he ordered.

Ebon obeyed without question, though his grip on the armrest tightened slightly.

Damian folded his hands on the desk and looked at him with amusement. "Tell me, Count Ebon, what excuse have you prepared for me today?