"My love, you came late… Your Highness, when will you come to see my father?" Sarah's voice was soft, yet laced with longing. Her delicate fingers brushed against his sleeve as though afraid he might disappear if she held on too tightly.
Alexander looked at her, his usually cold eyes softened by something rare, something dangerously close to love.
"I have waited too long to find you," he replied, his voice low and certain. "Now, I won't let you go."
They walked side by side through the vast imperial garden, their steps slow, unhurried, as though time itself had chosen to pause for them. The scent of blooming roses filled the air, and the sky above rumbled softly before opening into a heavy downpour.
Rain poured over them, soaking silk and skin alike, yet neither moved to seek shelter.
Instead, Alexander smiled faintly, A sight no one in the empire had ever truly seen.
"Can you sing?" he asked, tilting his head as he watched her.
Sarah smiled, though there was sadness hidden behind it. She stepped slightly away from him, lifting her face to the rain as her voice rose, fragile yet haunting.
"My heart is hurting…
My soul questions my decision…
Our love is forbidden…"
Her voice echoed through the garden, blending with the rhythm of the falling rain. It was a song of sorrow, of longing, of a love that could never truly exist.
Alexander stepped closer, his gaze never leaving her.
"I will walk miles to find you, Sarah," he said softly.
Before she could respond, he lifted her into his arms, spinning her playfully despite the storm. For a moment, they were not emperor and commoner, just two souls caught in something neither could control.
He stopped, holding her close.
His eyes dropped to her lips.
Slowly, carefully, he leaned in...
***
"Your Majesty!"
The voice shattered everything.
Alexander's eyes snapped open.
The garden vanished. The rain disappeared. Sarah… was gone.
He was back in his chamber.
Dark. Silent. Empty.
A servant stood a few feet away, head bowed deeply, trembling slightly under the weight of the emperor's gaze.
"A billion chests of Gold, diamond and silver had just arrived at the palace, fifty thousand armies, servants and Thousands captives" the servant announced nervously. "More gifts are coming, they are from the western and southern Kings, and.. My lord, your presence is highly needed."
Alexander said nothing at first.
His breathing was steady, but his expression darkened.
"Where is she?" he asked suddenly.
The servant blinked, confused, but dared not question him.
***
Alexander Roland twenty-seven years old, sat upright on his bed. The remnants of the dream clung to him like a ghost he could not shake.
Then reality settled in.
His father, the Great Emperor Roland, was dead.
Yesterday.
And on that same day, Alexander had been crowned emperor.
The memory tightened something inside him, though his face showed nothing.
His brothers, His uncles and stepmother blamed him for the emperor's death. Not that it mattered. The entire empire feared him already.
They always had.
As a prince, Alexander had been known by many names, heartless, brutal, dreadful. A man who could not be pleased. A man who felt nothing.
He had gone to war at the age of twelve.
Since then,
Lives meant nothing to him.
He was the sixth son, never meant to rule. But fate had marked him differently the royal mark, etched into his skin since birth, declaring him the true heir.
And now, he sat on the throne.
******
"A billion chests…" he repeated slowly, his voice dangerously calm.
His gaze shifted to the servant.
"Is that the reason you came into my private chambers… and woke me from my slumber?",
The servant dropped instantly to the floor, his forehead pressing against the cold marble.
"Pardon me, my Lord!" he trembles,
Alexander rose from the bed, his tall frame casting a long shadow across the room. Each step he took echoed like a warning.
"Do you wish for death?" he asked quietly.
"N-no, Your Majesty! Forgive me!"
Silence stretched.
Then..
He paused,
"Send a message," Alexander said, turning away.
"To all elders, nobles, magicians, local rulers, and kings," the emperor continued. "I will hold a meeting by tomorrow sunset."
"Yes, Your Highness!" the servant replied quickly, relief flooding his voice.
" You May Leave."
The servant bowed repeatedly before scrambling out of the chamber, shutting the doors behind him.
Alexander stood alone once more.
The room felt colder now.
His hand clenched slightly as he walked toward the window, staring out at the vast empire that now belonged to him.
Yet his mind was not on power.
Not on the throne.
Not even on the enemies already gathering in the shadows.
It was on her.
Sarah.
"…A dream," he muttered.
But something about it didn't feel like one.
Her voice.
Her eyes.
The way his heart had reacted,
Alexander's expression hardened.
"I hardly dream," he said under his breath.
He closed his eyes briefly, and for a fleeting moment, he could almost hear her song again.
"My heart is hurting…"
His eyes snapped open.
"Find her," he whispered to himself, though there was no one to hear it.