a/n; this is a shorter chapter, my apologies hahaha — to clear up any confusion, there's two flashbacks labeled 'past.' One is Casper and Ralph, and the other was MC and Silas way before their separation

hope you enjoy! do vote and comment because it greatly motivates me! :)

—

PAST

Ralph had never entertained the thought of having a child, but when he saw the bubbling baby cradled in his arms, his heart felt like it was becoming full. Ever since the full blown fight between the Emperor and him, Ralph had found his heart splintering into tiny pieces, and now this child was piecing it back together once more.

"Y/n," Ralph whispered indulgently, slowly caressing the little boy's cheek, "you're so cute."

The baby had done wonders for the shaky bond between Sarah and him. Ralph, at this point, still couldn't find a way to love Sarah romantically, as a wife — but now, he could find peace in the fact that they were family.

His son gave a giggle as Ralph tickled his neck, and Ralph found that sound glorious. A warm smile spread across his face, and his heart warmed.

My savior, Ralph thought, this child...he will save me. I can have a family outside of His Majesty. I can have love, peace. I can live.

"He's quite a happy baby, isn't he?" Sarah beamed, taking Y/n from Ralph's arms — "everyone complains about how babies are all fussy and cranky, but it's the opposite. He hardly cries, and he simply laughs and smiles at us. Y/n's an angel, isn't he?"

Ralph agreed. "He's perfect," he whispered, "thank you, Sarah, for this gift."

Was fatherhood meant to feel so wonderful, so sacred? It was so easy, so why had his own father treated him so cruelly? How could one look at their own child and raise their hands against them?

How could one look at their own child and feel revulsion towards them?

How could one look at their own child and hurt them with their words, or make them cry?

Y/n was precious. So very precious and so very dear to him. Y/n had saved his life from misery, and even though Ralph had been horrified at learning about his existence a long time ago, now, he thanked the stars for him. Ralph did everything he could for his little boy — he built a treehouse for him (Sarah teased Ralph, saying that it wouldn't be a long time til Y/n could use it), he read storybooks to him, and occasionally, he sang him soft lullabies.

"He doesn't smile at others much," Sarah said worriedly. "Y/n doesn't seem to enjoy playing with his relatives."

Ralph frowned. "Are they too rough for him?"

Sarah shook her head. "No, that isn't the issue. Y/n seems perfectly fine with whatever physical games they play — but what I mean is, he doesn't seem to like interacting with them outside of games. You know little kids like giggling at each other or making faces — our little boy doesn't do any of that."

"He seems alright with us, though."

"Y/n is nice to everyone," Sarah sighed, "but he's picky with friends. I don't think he can call anyone — even his cousins — a friend. The minute those little games end, he retires to a corner and just sits there while the others nudge each other or hang around. Are normal two year olds meant to act this way?"

Around two years had passed since Y/n had been born. The relationship between Ralph and the Emperor had soured considerably and the time Ralph spent at the palace grew shorter. He did his duties much faster than before, and so he would swiftly return home. The reason why Ralph could do this was because Casper had been taking frequent trips to the other Empires — with the obvious message that he did not need Ralph to follow him.

Usually, in fights like this, Casper would often grow more attached to him. But in this case, Capser had started giving Ralph the full on silent treatment. Ralph would have lied if he said this didn't affect him, for it did, but at least, it gave him the chance to spend more time with his son.

Y/n had started walking when he was about eleven months, a little earlier than his peers. He had started to talk at about thirteen months, too. He could manage little words like daddy as well as mommy which sent joy running through Ralph's veins.

"It doesn't matter if you don't wish to befriend anyone," Ralph whispered to his child one night, "you have me, and you have your mother."

Y/n was growing to look like Sarah. The Emperor had yet to catch a sight of him, but Casper knew the reaction would not be pretty. The day that Casper had learnt of Sarah's pregnancy, he had reacted similarly to Ralph, and that day, there was a massacre.

A massacre, just because....

Guilt plagued Ralph constantly, but it further solidified his thought that Casper had already been too dangerous — too wild — to be close with. His temper was obscenely strong.

It was good, Ralph cajoled himself constantly, feeling like a fool whenever he thought of how he had to comfort himself with words, that I did end up telling Casper that I was engaged.

But time and time again, Ralph thought of the what-ifs. The Emperor, that day, had been ready to change, to turn over a new leaf. He had gifted him those daffodils that were still present in the Imperial Garden. And then Ralph had ruined it all with those words.

Ultimately, Ralph had to decide who was more important to him — the Emperor, once his cherished friend and his dear ruler — or his son.

He didn't want to think of it. He didn't want to think of anything, and so Ralph avoided all the obvious issues that were popping up in his life. This avoidance would cause him in the future, and Ralph knew that.

Months passed, and there was a slight change in Y/n's behavior, and Ralph found that the boy adored chatting with other people and playing with them. He played relentlessly with his cousins and humored them with conversations, unlike the time when he had been young. Y/n was blooming to be quite the social butterfly.

Ralph thought occasionally about what the palace would do to his sweet child. He knew Sarah worried about that too, for she had brought it up in conversations.

"I worry for him," Sarah said in a low voice. "Is there any way, Ralph? Is there any way that we can somehow keep Y/n from working —"

"As the next butler?" Ralph finished.

"Yes," Sarah swallowed, "Y/n seems to have an interest in books. Perhaps in the future, he would want to take a different path in life. If possible, I don't want his career path to be limited."

"And you're scared, too," Ralph let out a sigh, "about him changing. About the place affecting him."

"He's such a darling child," Sarah whispered. "I can't beat the thought..."

Ralph knew that too. But he also knew of the inevitable curse that his wife did not know about. He closed his eyes. "I know."

"There has to be a way," Sarah said desperately, "surely it cannot be his birthright. Even if His Majesty does not have a child, Y/n will still be doomed to serve the crown prince. What if the person ends up being horrible? What if the palace —"

"He has to," Ralph said, with a note of finality in his voice. "Y/n has to. There's that."

He, too, wondered if Casper would have a child. Would it be out of spite, or out of love? Somehow, the former hurt more than the latter. But surely, Casper wouldn't have a child, right? The Emperor had professed his love to Ralph numerous times. Had Ralph hurt Casper to the point that Casper would choose to hurt him tenfold by marrying someone and having a child on his own?

Despite everything, Ralph still knew Casper. And Ralph still knew that Casper loved him, and yet, Ralph also knew of the malice and anger that swarmed beneath the Emperor's skin. He had not forgotten the promise — the grudge — that Casper now bore.

Ralph couldn't be too happy, or the Emperor would kill his family. He couldn't. And Ralph had long convinced himself that he didn't — he simply didn't deserve happiness.

The answer came after a few days — Ralph soon learnt that the Emperor had married a woman. And on the same day, a particularly nasty storm had come and reduced the treehouse to bits. It was like a warning from the universe, telling Ralph that him and Y/n would never exist again as a father and son. A few weeks later, it was announced that the Emperor had an heir.

I suppose it's my karma, he thought bitterly, I deserve that.

They had their first argument on that day, Sarah and him. It was funny how everything that Ralph had built after his son's birth had crumbled to dust so quickly. And when Ralph saw Casper, this time, the Emperor had a victorious smile on his face.

"You're so happy," Ralph rasped out, "when you slept with her, did you think of me?"

"I should be the one asking you that question," Casper said calmly, crossing his arms. "You're the one who went off and had a child on your own with Sarah. What does he look like? I hear that you adore him."

"I won't forgive you if you do anything to him."

Casper shrugged loosely. "I don't know about that."

"What do you mean you don't know? Don't talk nonsense. Everything you do has always been carefully deliberated. You are manipulative, cunning, and —!" Ralph gritted his teeth. "And no doubt your child will be exactly like you. Vicious and commanding," he spat out.

"That's a little harsh."

"Fucking bastard."

Casper's smile grew irritatingly larger."I warned you."

"Your Majesty —"

"What's done is done," Casper said flatly. "You started it, and I ended it. This is the beginning of the end, and this is the result of the choices that you have made. Perhaps you are angry, Ralph, because you can see that I am right, and that you are wrong."

"Stop," Ralph pleaded. "Stop talking."

Of course, the Emperor didn't listen. "Maybe you think that you have found contentment with your son and your wife. But perhaps the truth torments you — perhaps you know that no amount of joy that you feel with your wife and son can ever compare to the happiness that you could have felt with me. There's a thin line between contentment and pure exuberant joy — and you happen to be confined within contentment."

"You were the one who made me feel joy," Ralph whispered, "that much, I can admit. But it was also you who introduced me to sorrow. Yes, I was happy. But that only made the devastation worse."

The curse. Once upon a time, Ralph was foolish enough to believe that it was a rumor. After all, a person's life was ultimately led by the choices that they made. Ralph thought that as long as he was conscious of every decision, he would be able to avoid the curse. But then things had started piling up more and more, and he found himself spiraling down into a hole that he no longer could climb out of.

Where had it all started? Was it the first drop of blood that had proved to be an emblematic part of their relationship? Was it betrayal, the first heartbreak? The first kiss, the first time that they had sex?

Where had everything gone wrong? Was it right for Ralph to blame it on the curse, when truthfully, everything had started from him?

"Your son," Casper said slowly, "the way he is now, he will not survive in the palace."

"I know."

"You know, and yet you still choose to dote on him. You will make him soft, Ralph."

"And you will make your son callous," Ralph scoffed. "Are you even planning to care for your child?"

"The palace has nannies," Casper said offhandedly. "But look at you. Being such a wonderful, loving father. I wonder how long that can last."

It couldn't. Ralph knew that it wouldn't last. Because soon, in the years leading up to when Y/n would turn nine, Ralph would have to somehow break him — so that Y/n would learn how to repair himself.

I have to make Y/n strong, Ralph thought, I have to. I have to. I have to. He cannot suffer like me in the palace. He can't be so sweet, so kind —

He has to be strong.

And Ralph had been cruel. So needlessly cruel towards his son.

But what Ralph hadn't expected was for his son to bump into the prince. Ralph was glad, at first, that his son was coming back so joyful and pleased at making a new friend. But then that joy turned to worry — that friend was making him soft. It would only make the change more startling when Y/n would be torn away from his friend to serve the prince.

It had never occurred to Ralph that that friend was the prince. From his own experience, princes weren't allowed to wander about. But then again, Casper had completely abandoned his son, and as a result, Silas often went to the garden, which was meant to be forbidden.

Was becoming friends with the prince so early a blessing, and would it be a curse? Ralph could already see the changes — Silas seemed much gentler with you than Casper had been with him. But then again, the rumors that surrounded the prince were not kind. It told him that Silas was vicious, wild, and bloodthirsty — all of which that reminded Ralph of Silas's father.

Would Silas change as he got older? Only time would be able to tell. Ralph remembered once, when he had left for the briefest amount of time (two days, really) — Casper had changed for a little while. Before Ralph had left, he could feel how gently and briefly the Emperor had held his hand — he could feel all of him. For the shortest moment then, Ralph had wondered if they were capable of coexisting; of loving.

They could not, evidently.

Until now, Ralph found himself dearly missing a version of the Emperor. He remembered the times they would read together; the times they would dance clumsily when young, the last page of the book they had touched. The last amiable conversation that wasn't peppered with insults and biting comments and despair —

Everything was gone. Ralph didn't have anything. Perhaps it was time to let go. Perhaps it was time to stop hurting, to stop everything altogether. Perhaps it was better to give up. But everytime he tried to, Ralph would think of young Casper, wild and yet so free — and he would halt, before cursing himself for his thoughts.

If only, if only, Ralph thought, if only I hadn't said yes to Sarah's proposal.

It was a case of regrets too late, and there was nothing he could do about it.

—

PAST

"You're wonderful, Silas," you spoke softly, reaching out to cup his cheek. The two of you were children still, basking in the sun. No one entered the Imperial Gardens, and thus, the two of you were safe.

"Wonderful how? You mean in terms of appearance, or..."

You laughed. "Everything. You're cute, you're talented, and you're incredibly sweet."

"Sweet," Silas murmured, "that's not a word that people use to describe me."

"But you are!" You exclaimed indignantly, "you're so sweet that you could give me diabetes. I've never felt so loved in my life."

Silas paused, before he said in a small voice, "me too."

"I get lonely when I'm at home without you," you sighed, "all my parents do is quarrel."

"Quarrel," Silas repeated your last word, "that's a big word."

You got a sense of deja vu, like this conversation had happened before.

"I don't want to use the word fight," you said, "it kinda makes it seem like a small thing, but that's not true, when all my parents do is scream and yell. Do you miss me when I'm not here, Silas?"

"Yeah," he mumbled. He cradled the four leaf clover he had found to his chest, feeling Elias nuzzling his neck.

"How about this," you suggested, "when you get lonely in my absence, Silas, you write in a journal. You pour out all the emotions that you wish to tell me into ink. Then you read them over and over again until you have absorbed them."

"Is that what you do?" Silas wondered.

"It helps," you said quietly, "I can imagine your presence — I can think of it, and I can assure myself that I will see you again."

"What if I'm going through something really bad, and you're not here with me?" Silas whispered, his voice tinged with nervousness, "then how will I survive? How will writing help?"

"Ah," you said, with wisdom that did not befit your age — "see, that's when you write even more. All of your pain and suffering — you write it all down. All your feelings — you pen it down. That's when writing becomes even more helpful, because you are speaking to something."

"But a notebook would be an object — it can't speak, it can't listen. It's useless."

You rolled your eyes. "Must you be so negative? Just do as I say, and you'll see what I mean."

Silas didn't exactly believe in that advice, and so all he did was to frown and lean his head on your shoulder.

He didn't see a point in it anyway, for he believed that you would always be with him.

—

PRESENT

Silas stared at the first page of his blank notebook, twirling his pen skillfully with his fingers. A second passed, and then another, and yet the pages remained blank.

Silas gritted his teeth, and he felt the sudden impulse to fling the notebook to the other side of the room. He set down his pen, picked it up again, before he squeezed his eyes shut.

There were days where Silas was decidedly more impatient, and unfortunately for him, today was one of those days. Nightmares plagued him on several occasions — he would dream of phantoms pulling him to death with their ragged claws and poisonous breath, he would think of snakes coiling round him and dragging him to doom —

To keep himself from growing mad — perhaps he already was, in your absence — Silas imagined your smile at every moment.

The only way that Silas could ever calm himself down was to think of you, and so he did. He looked at old pictures and thought you looked especially resplendent, with the dimples on your face when a smile alighted on your features, with the messiness of your hair when you ran, with your cheeks that turned red whenever you were happy. Silas thought you looked wonderful. Handsome, beautiful, gorgeous.

Thinking of you wasn't enough.

Silas needed you with him. He was desperate for you, and he desired your presence with a fervor so strong people would have been appalled by it.

Elias chirped by the side, perching on his shoulder. Silas naturally reached out to him absentmindedly, scratching the bird's lower stomach. It had gone rather frail in your absence. Just like how Elias had stopped eating much that time when you had disappeared for two years, it had stopped eating much now, too.

I really don't feel like doing much anymore. Princely duties are a bore, though I keep pushing through because I know that is what you would have wanted. The instructors are warming up to me, and so are the servants, but I do realize that they simply see an idealized version of me.

It had been you, Y/n, who loved me for who I was. And now I dearly miss you. I have been missing you for five years, and...

Silas sighed. Rather than journaling, it seemed like he was writing a heartfelt letter to you instead. You had advised him once to write his feelings down, and he was. It just so happened that his heart, his soul — it all consisted of you. His feelings, his love — it had all been stolen by you. You were a thief, who had taken away his heart.

Every time it's my birthday, I can't help but wonder what kind of gift you would send. And each time, it surpasses my expectations. How could you be so lovely, so thoughtful? It's like you can read my mind, and it fills me with delight to know that you are thinking of me, just like I am thinking of you.

Silas was eighteen now. One more year, and you would be home. After five years, a single year didn't feel like it was long, but in the context of you, it did. Each minute felt like hours and each hour felt like a year.

To put it simply, Silas was pining for you.

Today marks the time that you left me. Did you know how angry I was, at first? Did you know how betrayed I felt? Did you know how immeasurably miserable I felt? You killed me, Y/n, a part of you did. A part of you obliterated my spirit. But then again, it was you who made me feel.

Just like you have taught me happiness and gratitude and love, you have taught me misery and sadness. However, the feelings of joy triumphed over everything, and till now, I find myself dreaming of you on the days that nightmares aren't present.

Silas adored you more than anything. For you, he would have touched the stars and bottled them in a jar. You loved everything that had to do with nature — whether it was the crisp sunlight filtering through the windows, whether it was the cold moonlight that shone on the plants in the night, whether it was the stars that glittered in the expanse of the sky. Silas would do anything and everything for you, as long as you did not leave him.

And so, he would make sure that after you returned — you would not leave again. And how exactly would Silas accomplish that? It was simple. Silas would simply learn how to hide things better. There would be no more threatening to kill himself — no more harming himself recklessly that would scare you away —

Silas learned that you only grew angry when it involved him getting hurt. When it came to others getting hurt, you were shockingly indifferent to them. Or perhaps indifferent wasn't a suitable word, for you were still deeply sensitive to the wounds of others, but you certainly wouldn't be angry at them for getting hurt.

Silas's planet of existence was now moving out of orbit. But once you returned, everything would be fine.

Yes, everything would be perfect as long as you stuck right next to him.

That was the way that things were meant to be.

Silas finished scribbling down his thoughts and closed the book, mindlessly shoving it in his drawer. You had been right — writing things down did help. For you, he would become a poet, a writer, someone who weaved pretty words into sentences and clauses and phrases.

For you, he would do anything and everything.

Silas soon had a habit of writing more and more things down, and every day, he found himself journaling. It felt as if he had been consumed by you: there was not a moment where he did not think of you — of your voice, your touch, your words.

After that, the years passed by, and you were twenty one, and Silas was nineteen.

You were due to return back to the palace.

—

hahhahahah the reunion was meant to be like in chapter 26 but then I have this thing about making an important milestone happen in a nice sounding number soooo anyway yeah I decided to use the chance to explore Casper and Ralph's relationship and sometimes when I write them I realise how fucking horrible their relationship is like how the fuck do you fuck up your relationship that badly lmao

anyway I've been kinda offline these past few days because I've been really busy but I think I can update quite quickly again! and plus I'll be so motivated once Silas and MC are officially reunited next chapter woohoo I've missed writing their interactions

what do you guys think is gonna happen hahahahhahahaha

sorry if this chapter didn't seem up to par, I tried but unfortunately I didn't get much sleep so I think my brain is lowk rotting

but happy 100k words to this fic

regardless remember to add to your library to get updated on my updates (trippy ass sentence) and vote!

how was it?