CHAPTER 603: AN IMPORTANT DAY

Two decades.

Their son had been alive for two whole decades, and yet Emperor Xavian and Empress Gisella only encountered something like this after twenty years of their child’s existence.

See, it wasn’t that there had never been problems concerning their son Xavier. There were plenty. But most of them were your run-of-the-mill assassination attempts, the usual kidnapping attempts, and the typical probes into their child’s hidden identity. Nothing surprising there.

Not that any of it ever succeeded.

Especially not when, soon after learning how to walk, their child decided to start handling such matters himself.

And how did they know he had made that decision?

Because the assassins were often found dead before the guards could even arrive.

Killed by raw spiritual ability. Without much of a fuss.

It was the bizarre case of someone learning how to wield spiritual energy before they had even learned how to talk.

And that was saying something, considering how silent their child was.

Most children born in that generation didn’t cry when they left their pods anymore. But Xavier seemed determined to push the envelope. He barely cried even in uncomfortable situations.

The situation puzzled them deeply. It was as if he had inherited only the cold and ruthless sides of both his parents.

After all, while they themselves could be warm in private, they both knew no ruler could survive over vast lands without learning to shut away their emotions when needed.

But Xavier?

It was like the Punnett square had rolled, and he had gotten all the cold and ruthless genes in one go.

And while his tutors praised him endlessly for his intellect, discipline, and control, his parents were quietly fretting. Because sometimes... their child looked more like an emperor than the Emperor himself.

Always stern. Always efficient. Always looking for the most direct solution.

Including how to live.

For a time, Empress Gisella made it her personal mission to drag him into conversations about emotions. To tell him the stories of commoners. To share even the most trivial gossip about relationships.

Hoping, desperately, that something would stick.

"Why do people fall in love, Xavier?" she would ask.

"Because the hormonal balance of their bodies is affected by proximity and compatible traits," her child would recite, looking serious.

"..."

She’d try to teach him that sometimes it wasn’t just that.

And eventually, he gave her the correct answers, or the answers that most humans would give. But she was never sure if he truly understood, or if he was just memorizing them the way he memorized battle strategies.

Thankfully, he had friends. Reliable ones who managed to stick by his side. Although really it was just two people who he managed to tolerate.

And when they played, it was... well... "play" was a generous term.

While other children built blocks or chased each other in the gardens, their trio was discovered mounting small custom-made mechas behind their backs.

The kind of revelation that almost gave both the Emperor and Empress simultaneous cardiac arrest.

The hypertension that day nearly left the most important positions of the Empire vacant.

But what could they even say when their child calmly declared, "Doing this would increase our chances of survival, wouldn’t it? If we practice now, won’t that allow us to come back?"

"..."

They almost spat blood.

What was the correct response to that? To say it was too early? To insist on adult supervision?

But who were they kidding? When the child began official training, there would be no supervision out in the contamination zones anyway.

And what was too early, when no one could predict when contamination would surge again?

How hard it was to argue with a child whose every word buried them deeper, like being hammered into the ground with logic.

And yet, how could anyone not be proud of that boy?

That boy whose sacrifice had begun the very moment he was born.

Not only had he grown into someone capable of leading, but he also grew up knowing exactly what it entailed to be a good one—even if he never truly had much of a choice.

The child never asked for anything for himself. His fortune was the kind built up through discipline, through growing his own wealth out of what resources were given to someone of his stature.

And yet today, their son, who had already been verified as not possessed, asked for something he had never asked for before.

Time.

And then, he smiled.

Smiled.

An honest-to-goodness smile. Not the sharp, cold grin he once flashed at a noble who had attempted to assassinate a child, only to be caught red-handed by the same "child" who then disposed of him personally.

This was a real smile.

And that was precisely why they found themselves pacing, wringing their hands, waiting for Xavier’s response.

What if they failed him? What if they failed to help him succeed in this? How worthless would they be as parents then?

"Nina, do you think your brother’s ch-chipmunk would like the gift? Do you think it was enough?"

The little princess tilted her head thoughtfully.

"Maybe we should’ve added another zero?" the Emperor muttered darkly, already considering raiding the treasury again.

"Father!" Nina said earnestly, puffing her cheeks. "I think the gift will be received well! And it will be used well too! The best chipmunk is, after all, very generous!"

"What?!" Empress Gisella gasped. "Generous? Even now?!"

Her mind reeled. Even in such a dire situation, with resources surely tight, her son’s beloved still had the ability to share with others?

But then she remembered Nina’s words. The voice. The conversation she overheard.

Instead of inciting Nina to become a runaway, the person had gently told their daughter that her parents were probably just worried.

And then Nina had even been comforted, asked what she wanted to eat.

Imagine that. Even when money was tight, there was still room for generosity.

But most of all, this was proof. The beloved had access to Xavier. To Xavier!

Who else could casually say something like, "I’ll make him call you"?

Even they, the Emperor and Empress of Solaris, could not easily do such a thing!

It seemed undeniable now. The relationship was close. Very close.

"My wife," Emperor Xavian said gravely, though his voice cracked with nerves, "let us trust him. I believe you’ve taught him well enough about relationships. And maybe... maybe we can even hope his beloved enjoys looking at good-looking people."

Gisella blinked at him. "...That is your contribution?"

He nodded firmly. "If he cannot show his status right now, then at least his face is still there. Thankfully, he chose to just go as he is."

There was a pause. Then Gisella let out the faintest laugh, despite her pounding heart. "At least we’ve contributed something, then."

Apparently... a very big something.

Because truly, how could there be a better benefactor than someone who not only brought everything to the table...

...but who could also be the entire table?

And if someone were to ask, a certain little chipmunk, ehem, fox would probably say that, like this, his white-haired table might even be able to produce all those little chairs!

Because in his sheer shock, Luca could only stare at Xavier with wide, glowing eyes that might as well rival the sun itself.

"X-Xavier, what is this?!"

Xavier’s tone was maddeningly calm, "This? It’s my parents. They’re saying hello."