Chapter 32 Forging a Legacy
A day later, Emperor Dimitri stood in the infirmary, his hands clasped behind his back as he paced quietly beside Gabriel’s bed. The room was quiet but heavy with the scent of herbs and burning candles. Gabriel lay unconscious, his chest wrapped in thick white bandages; his breathing was slow but steady. He hadn’t woken once since being brought back.
Dimitri stopped walking and stared down at him.
"This man... he survived," he whispered. "He really is a Flamehouse, and almost the last of his line." He turned to the window, watching as rain trickled down the glass. "I’ve finally done something that history won’t ignore. This... this is no longer my father’s empire. I’ve finally stepped out of his shadow. Now I wish the old man was back so I can see the look on his face."
For the first time in a long while, there was pride in his heart. Even if no one else saw it yet, Dimitri felt it clearly... he believed he had taken the first real step in carving his legacy.
Just then, a servant entered the room quietly, bowing her head in respect. "Your Majesty," she said, holding out a sealed message. "A report from the Northhelm."
Dimitri glanced at the note lazily before he took the letter and unfolded it. His eyes scanned the neat writing, and his jaw tightened.
"They’re... investigating?" he muttered. "Of course they are. The moment they realize I acted without waiting for them, they throw a tantrum."
The servant didn’t answer, she kept her head down. It would be regarded as a great treason to look at royals in the eyes.
"They think I strained our alliance by marching into their lands," Dimitri said, more to himself. "But they forget... they never had the strength to act."