Chapter 404: Burdens of a Father

"Sebastian here shall be the new Head Servant within the Palace. He shall control all matters regarding this. His words are law, and to disregard them is to disregard the orders of the Emperor." Issac looked at all the palace servants lined up before him in the throne room. By his side, Sebastian scrutinised every servant he laid eyes on, finding something to find fault with. "You are all dismissed." The servants bowed in unison and hurried out of the throne room.

Issac turned to Sebastian and patted his shoulder. His eyes went incredibly sharp as he tightened his grip around his shoulder, "You don’t only represent yourself, but the standards of the Flander household. His Majesty may tolerate a mistake, but I will not." Isaac’s voice was stern, "Am I clear?"

Sebastian straightened his back and nodded deeply, "I understand, Prime Minister." Getting a nod in reply, Isaac’s friendly smile returned.

"Perfect. Learn the servants. Some are under Her Majesty The Empress for her son. These can not be removed." Patting his shoulder like an old friend, Issac walked off, leaving the bowing Sebastian behind.

’A scary man indeed.’Sebastian said to himself as he rose. He knew of Issac, having seen him before at the duchy, but in his family home, he always showed his most friendly side. Seeing him at work, however, was enough for Sebastian to realise it was all a front he only displayed for his family. Fixing his appearance, he walked down the throne room, ready to begin his work.

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"Alfred." Issac walked into Alfred’s office and, seeing him alone, he dropped the formalities and leisurely took a seat. It had become a normal routine for the two when alone, and Alfred didn’t mind.

"Has he been put to work?" Issac nodded, getting a warm smile from the Emperor, "Good." Alfred paused and got up from his desk. Sitting on the sofa opposite Issac, he leaned back and relaxed, "You heard anything from the Academy?"

"Samuel is fitting in luckily enough." Issac lovingly said as he spoke about his son, "They said he was shy at first but quickly made friends..." He paused for a second and frowned, "The only problem is he has tried to make friends with Edward, but the boy is too closed off."

"It’s expected." Alfred spoke with a heavy heart and lowered his head, "Having Abu with him has made him relatively relaxed and from what he said, Astrid has tried to play with him, but there has been no real improvement in his state."

The two men sighed. They knew that it would take a long time for Edward to recover from his trauma, but still felt bad. "Alfred." Isaac said worriedly, "If and only if he doesn’t recover after a few years. What are you going to do? He can’t stay closed off as the Crown Prince."

Alfred sighed and leaned back in his chair. It was a moment he wished he had a drink in his hand. "I’ve thought about it..." Alfred paused and rubbed his face. "If he can’t recover with love and care, then I’m afraid I may have to do something drastic, almost inhumane. He’s my son Issac. I want him to recover normally, but every day when I see him like this, I’m afraid he won’t recover."

"Drastic?" Issac asked with a sense of dread.

Alfred took a deep breath and covered his mouth. "He’s a damaged boy. Trauma like that isn’t easily healed. In the Empire, there is one family whom I trust who are completely broken and can function."

"You can’t be serious." Issac said in a panic, almost getting up, "You would honestly send him to Horace."

"What else can I do?" Alfred snapped. "If he doesn’t get better with care, all I can do is send him to someone who will destroy his trauma and create a wall of ice around it." Falling into his hands, he sighed, "I know how the Underwells raise their children; it disgusts me beyond belief, but they are effective at their work because of it. If Edward can’t handle his emotions, he should learn to get rid of them."

Issac looked at Alfred with horror, unable to imagine putting his own children through that. "You know what you are saying. How will Isra react to such a thing?"

"I DON’T KNOW!" Alfred cried out. In front of Issac, the powerful image Alfred always displayed was gone, replaced by a father grappling with his own failures. "I don’t know Issac, but I have no choice if he never recovers." Taking a deep breath, he sat up and looked at Issac, a slight detachment in his eyes, "The Empire can’t survive with a weak ruler. If it means Edward has to become a husk of a human being, unable to truly feel, so be it; he will have my throne, and he will rule after me. I will do anything to ensure this, even if it means the boy must suffer."

"His life is already full of suffering," Issac said sadly.

"I know." Alfred took a deep breath and looked to the sky full of hate. "If Sol does exist, he is no benevolent being. No righteous God would force a child to be born a cripple." Looking at Issac, the man saw the deep hate Alfred had for the proclaimed higher beings.

He struggled to suppress the bitter chuckle. It was ironic. The man titled the Blessed One was someone who most likely hated the concepts of Gods the most. "Don’t do anything drastic, Alfred. Edward still has time."

"I won’t. He still needs time right now." Alfred smiled and cleared his throat. Getting up, he walked around his desk. "Shall we get to work?"

Issac nodded and took a seat before Alfred. Pulling a stack of documents out, they fell into a deep discussion about the matter at hand, the previous conversation being pushed to the back of their minds.

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Alfred walked into his room and saw Isra sitting on the bed watching Edward sit on the floor, occasionally swinging the doll in his hands around. Her eyes were like a gentle sea full of motherly love as she watched the boy, completely ignoring Alfred as he entered.

Stripping out of his outfit, Alfred took a seat next to his wife, rested his head on her shoulder and watched Edward. "How have you been?" Alfred asked softly, grabbed her hand, and played with her hair. It was something he had found himself doing whenever he needed to soothe his mind.

"Happy. I rarely get to stay with Edward for a whole day, so it has been quite peaceful." Her voice was soft as she leaned onto the top of Alfred’s head.

"How has he been?" Alfred asked, the worry in his voice not going unnoticed.

Isra didn’t answer straight away, her warm smile shrinking slightly, "Like usual. Sometimes he would recreate the scene with his toys and get confused. Other times he sat motionless." The slight sadness in her voice quickly vanished, "But he has shown some of the old enjoyment he had when it was reading time so..."

Alfred tightly held her hand and took a deep breath of the fragrance coming off of Isra. "He will get better; he needs time. All he needs is time." As much as he was trying to convince her, he was convincing himself.

"I know. No matter how much he needs, we can wait." Isra said hopefully, trying not to notice Alfred’s silence as he watched the boy play. The hope in his eyes slowly vanished, and once again, it was replaced by the detachment Isaac saw.

’We can’t wait forever.’It was a cruel thought, but he didn’t ignore it. Getting off the bed, he carefully picked Edward up. "It’s getting late. I’ll take him to bed." Isra nodded, seeing Edward slowly dozing off, and stood up, planting a gentle kiss on Edward’s forehead.

Walking out of his room, Alfred slowly walked as he carried the boy. Hearing his soft breathing on his neck, he smiled and rubbed his silky hair that reminded him of Isra’s. The few people awake in the Palace who walked past made sure to be silent, seeing Alfred hold the prince.

Arriving at his room, the guards opened the door for the two. Alfred walked in and saw a maid sitting in the corner watching with respectful eyes. Ignoring her, he slowly put Edward down, carefully covering him with a blanket. Looking around, he saw a small stuffed animal that resembled a lion and set it down beside his son.

Edwards’ small hands reached out and grabbed the toy, bringing it closer to himself, his drool quickly soaking the lion’s ear. The cute sight made Alfred chuckle as he leaned down and softly kissed his cheek. "You will grow strong, my son. No one will deny you what is yours. No matter what." With parting words that were almost inaudible, Alfred tiptoed out of the room.