Ashes of the First Prince

Such Clumsiness!

Their reunion was interrupted by the arrival of the King’s eldest son, Cower Dixon. The Crown Prince’s father.

"Who has disturbed my father's morning meditations?" he inquired as he descended the grand staircase.

He embraced his son warmly. Before they could exchange greetings, the Emperor interjected.

"Do you wish to test my virility, son?" he challenged, glancing pointedly at the Queen Mother.

Cower Dixon grinned mischievously. "I have no objections, Father, if Mother is willing."

Corliss Dixon playfully nudged the Emperor. "Are you suggesting you seek another consort?"

The Emperor feigned alarm. "My love, how can you accuse me of such a thing? You are the only woman for me!" He cast a mock-glower at his son, who merely smiled in response.

Lindsay Dixon, Calhoun's mother, emerged from her chambers and embraced her nephew. "You must be weary, Calhoun. Go, refresh yourself, and join us for breakfast."

As Calhoun turned to leave, Lindsay noticed the stain on his robes. "My dear boy, what happened to your attire? It appears you had a mishap with your tea."

Calhoun glanced down at the stain, a faint smile playing on his lips. "It is nothing, mother."

"Such clumsiness!" the Emperor exclaimed. "How do you expect to produce heirs if you cannot even hold a cup of tea without spilling it?"

"Father," Cower Dixon chuckled, "there is little correlation between the two."

"Nonsense!" the Emperor retorted. "One must be steady of hand for both endeavors!"

Everyone laughed, accustomed to the Emperor's playful banter.

As Calhoun made his way to his chambers, he couldn't help but recall the startled expression of the young woman who had collided with him in the marketplace.

"We shall meet again soon, Hazel Morgans," he murmured to himself, a spark of anticipation in his eyes.

A stunned silence fell over the room.

The Queen Mother gasped. Cower choked back a laugh. Lindsay raised her eyebrows in surprise. Even Gilford Dixon, Cower's younger brother, seemed momentarily speechless.

Calhoun himself coughed awkwardly, a faint blush creeping up his neck.

"Well..." he stammered, "that is... unexpected."

The Queen Mother recovered first. "Honestly, Husband," she chided the Emperor, "must you be so indelicate?"

Cower grinned. "Father is never one to mince words."

Lindsay sighed. "Thank goodness the children are not present."

Gilford Dixon muttered under his breath, "Perhaps I should return to my chambers..."

Jones, the palace steward, discreetly covered his ears.

Calhoun, though accustomed to his family's playful banter, was nonetheless taken aback. He cleared his throat and declared, "Father, I assure you, I have no such difficulties. I am perfectly capable of all things." He turned to leave, then paused, his back still to his family. "And do not worry, Grandfather, I shall not disappoint you in fulfilling your desire for an heir."

With that, he strode from the hall, leaving his family in stunned silence. Never before had Calhoun spoken of marriage or producing an heir. He was known for his focus on duty and his disinterest in romantic pursuits.

What had brought about this sudden change? Could it be that the Prince had finally taken an interest in someone? Intrigued whispers filled the room as everyone speculated about the mysterious woman who might have captured their Prince's attention.

Calhoun entered his chambers and dismissed his attendants. He removed his outer robe, tossing it carelessly onto a divan, and entered his bathing chamber. As he stood before the polished bronze mirror, he touched the lingering stain on his inner tunic, a smile curving his lips.

"Grandfather will be overjoyed," he mused.

After bathing and changing into fresh robes, Calhoun returned to the dining hall. His family awaited him, their curiosity barely contained. They watched him intently as he approached the table, his expression unreadable.

An air of anticipation hung heavy in the room. The only sound was the quiet clinking of serving utensils as the palace servants attended to their duties.

Calhoun began his meal, but the weight of his family's gaze was palpable. He set down his chopsticks with a sigh.

"Is something amiss?" he inquired, his voice laced with amusement.

Everyone shook their heads in unison.

"No, no, my dear," the Queen Mother replied, a touch too brightly. "You simply look very handsome today. We are all so happy for you."

Cower added, "Indeed, Calhoun."

"Handsome?" Calhoun raised an eyebrow. "I have always been handsome."

The others exchanged amused glances. Flattery was clearly not the way to deflect Calhoun’s attention.

"Then what is the source of this... happiness?" Calhoun pressed, knowing full well the reason for their unusual behavior.

The Emperor cleared his throat. "Well, you are a fine young man, my grandson. Strong, capable..." He paused, then added, "Though perhaps a bit... thin. You should focus on building your strength."

Calhoun's lips twitched. He knew what was coming.

The Emperor summoned Jones . "Steward, from now on, Prince Calhoun is to be served only the most nourishing foods, to increase his vitality and stamina."

Jones, though long accustomed to the Emperor's eccentricities, blushed slightly. "Yes, Your Majesty."

As Calhoun resumed his meal, his family continued to steal glances at him, their curiosity about the woman who had apparently captured his heart burning bright.

"Grandfather," Calhoun said firmly, meeting the Emperor's gaze, "there is no need for concern. My vitality is quite sufficient. Surely you trust your own lineage."

Those assembled were accustomed to the Emperor's bold pronouncements, but Calhoun's uncharacteristic boldness surprised them. He rarely spoke so freely, especially in such a playful manner.

The Emperor chuckled. "I merely wished to ensure that you did not falter when faced with... distractions." He winked playfully.

"Have no fear, Grandfather," Calhoun replied with a smirk. "I know how to handle distractions. And I am not one to waste precious tea."

"Distractions, are they?" the Emperor teased. "Are you certain they are worthy of your attention?"

"Indeed," Calhoun countered. "They simply require proper guidance and refinement."

The Emperor roared with laughter. "Truly, you are my grandson!"

This exchange delighted the Emperor, and he beamed at Calhoun. The others at the table remained silent, exchanging amused glances. They were witnessing a rare and unexpected side of their usually reserved Prince.

The Queen Mother, sensing the conversation was veering off course, intervened. "Enough, you two. The food grows cold. Let us eat." Her words carried the weight of authority, and everyone obediently turned their attention to their meal.