Sophia speaks up first from next to Zai, her voice almost accusatory in tone. “DAD!”

  “Hello Daughter, yes, that’s me.” Arden Marchland, Emperor-Consort of the Ensolian Imperium, speaks to his fourth child with such terrifying casualness that even Zai feels the pressure.

  She continues with exasperation. “What are you doing here?!”

  “Well I’m sitting in a chair.” He answers as a matter of fact, taking a sip of pure, uncut black coffee. “And drinking genuine Tiancin coffee. What does it look like I’m doing?”

  Sophia Elise the Eighth has nothing on her father, and she just groans. “No, I mean here?! What are you doing here?! In the Dominion?!”

  The middle aged man shrugs. “I had some extra time after they signed off on the Landfall Treaty. So I said to myself ‘why not take a vacation,’ why can’t I go and visit my wonderful, beautiful daughter to see how she’s doing in her new life. Why can’t I do that?”

  “Dad!” Sophia cringes at his words, trying now to avoid eye contact with both him and Zai. “How did you know we were here?!”

  “I asked Mom.” He just says as a matter of fact, standing up from the chair to his full, towering height. “Come on Sophia, she’s the literal Empress she knows everything.”

  Sophia tries to take a frustrated sigh, a grave mistake as her father comes up to her and crushes her ribcage in a longing hug. “Oh my dear Sophia, I’m sorry I missed everything. Your coming of age, your wedding… and even your rite of parting. Can you ever forgive me, or shall I put a blade to myself?”

  The Fourth Princess of Ensolia turns over to her own husband; Zai holding an expression of obvious, absolute terror at this turn of events. She grunts out the words to her father, a desperate hand gently tapping his bicep. “D-Dad… yeah… you’re good.”

  “Tell me your Auntie treated you well as she walked you down the aisle.”

  “D-Dad I can’t… breathe.”

  And he lets her go, almost dropping her onto the hardwood floor. “I spoke with her over the radio last week, she couldn’t stop being so smug about it.”

  “That’s Auntie.” Sophia catches her breath. “Sounds like… her.”

  “And yes, speaking of weddings.” And this mountainous tower of authority and musculature turns very slowly to this caged Dominion hawk and bows to it, a hawk who tries to maintain composure against the next words coming out of this apex predator’s maw. “Prince Zai Tianci, my sire, it is an honor to formally meet you.”

  It’s the correct formalities given to this Crown Prince, this greeting completed in the Dominion’s standards like an actual, native child of Tianci.

  And there’s a few seconds where the Crown Prince of the Dominion has to catch his breath as well, pushing past a strange gut wrenching starshock and a bit of political terror to reorient his usually formal greeting to something more fitting of his… father-in-law. “Hello… Sir Arden…”

  The man catches that discomfort, immediately stopping his son-in-law’s bumbling attempt at an Ensolian greeting. “Don’t worry about titles with me Prince Zai, especially given that wedding ring you’re wearing. If you want you can just call me dad; but if that’s too much of an appropriation feel free to call me Arden. I don’t mind either.”

  It was a sacrifice beyond anything Zai had ever encountered. To throw away a noble title after fifteen seconds of speech craft—anywhere else, by anyone else, that would be a path to usurpation.

  But this was Arden Marchland, Emperor-Consort of the Ensolian Imperium; and nobody could stop him from trying.

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  “Arden, then.” There’s a choice here between utter casualness and demanding formalities, with the Crown Prince quickly reorienting; a beat passes before he adds, “And you can call me… Zai.”

  “Very well Zai, Crown Prince of the Dominion.” He laughs and scoffs. “You know I like that name Zai, it really does suit you.”

  “Does it?”

  “It means to govern. Fits your lofty role doesn’t it?”

  “I suppose it does.” Zai Tianci nods gently, hiding the bead of sweat that falls from his temple and the shaking of his hands. “It is a pleasure to meet you finally.”

  “The honor is all mine.” His words are genuine, Zai unable to catch even the smallest sliver of malice within both the movement of his jaw and his smiling eyes. “I know it's been a difficult time since we last… informally met. But I’m glad to see that you’re better, healthier.”

  Zai remembers that memory beneath the shadow of the aerostatics, of the hunger and the starvation and the sharp skeleton of a dying child in his lap. The Crown Prince of Tianci avoids eye contact, simply nodding along anyway.

  Arden catches that look, and quickly drops the social hand grenade as a distraction. “And I’m very glad you haven’t divorced Sophia yet.”

  It’s dead silent in the living room as those words are processed, abject terror from all the Tiancin personnel.

  Sophia’s reaction is visceral, the almost comfortable glare turning to a cold scowl on her face. “Father.”

  “Come on, I’m just messing with ya!” He gently claps his daughter’s arm, and then slaps Zai’s shoulder as well with a fatherly force. “And I really do apologize for dropping by suddenly. But given your current circumstances this is for the best. No ceremony, just a quick catch up you know?”

  Sophia’s face curls slightly at those words. “How long will you be staying, Dad?”

  “Probably a day.” He turns towards the rightful owner of the home, this uninvited guest allowing himself just a little bit of grace. “If you don’t mind.”

  And Zai Tianci offers it to him. “You can stay as long as you desire.”

  “Well maybe that’s a bit too much of a promise, Son.” Arden smiles, the three letter name of his son-in-law already far too formal for him. “At most overnight. Got a train to Yunclair to catch tomorrow anyways. Plus not to mention, that whole Amorian bombing my aerostatic fiasco still needs to be patched up.”

  His daughter lets out a small, almost inaudible sigh at those words.

  “I’m sorry Sophia.” Arden takes her hand gently, that long smile as comforting as usual. “But…”

  “I know dad.” She stops him proudly, pouting slightly. “I won’t miss you, since you are gone so often after all. I’m used to it!”

  The kind insult is taken with love. “There’s my girl.”

  He takes a breath as he allows a long look around this place, at this house in the middle of a foreign country. “You know this place reminds me of where I grew up. Very Hautwarden, very, very, north Ensolian.”

  “I said the exact same thing.” Sophia blankly informs.

  “She said the exact same thing.” Zai also speaks up at the exact same time. “I believe the original owner of his house quite liked the Imperial style of architecture.”

  And the house listens in, waiting for the judgement of the man who had lived in the real, living bodies of its originals. A copy, waiting to pass inspection:

  “Well, they certainly knew their architecture.” He shrugs and huffs with pride. “And I won’t lie, there’s some significant improvements already. Love the sunroof, and the store rooms; incredible craftsmanship.”

  The house liked this young foreign woman’s father.

  Zai Tiaci sees the moment for a self-extraction, a graceful bow and words pointed towards both his wife and his father in law. “I-I should take my leave. I know you two desire to spend some time catching up as a…”

  “Nonsense.” Arden waves his hands, so easily dismissing this boy. “You cook, Son?”

  “Y-yes sir.” Zai accidentally lets slip the formal title.

  The middle aged man takes a quick hop towards the far end of the living room, like an inspector passing through he runs his fingers alongside the cutlery; settling on a lethal serrated kitchen knife. “Then do you mind indulging me in a Hautwarden tradition?”

  The Crown Prince of Tianci looks at the guards, the terrified maids, and back to his father-in-law. “W-What tradition would that be?”

  He smiles, genuine, love, warmth and kindness emanating from him in an almost suffocating aura. “Once the rites of marriage are complete, the two families shall cook a meal together. And since your father was not quite as accommodating, the responsibilities fall upon the groom instead. You in?”

  Something within Zai pushes him towards this, towards this ignoble activity done by peasants and northern Imperials; and he cannot stop as his mouth spills out the words… because you’re one of them now.

  “I would love to.”

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  posting a chapter every other day just to give myself some breathing room (and not burn out from this). Apologies for the slow down everyone!