Good Night, Sweet Prince

WHEN ONE IS ABOUT TO DIE, their life will flash before them.

It was one of those oddities Galardos had learned firsthand over the centuries, and this time around, the person most present in his mind was his fiancée: Arlene Calea, heiress to the Great House of the East.

He first met her two hundred years ago as, of all things, a honey trap.

Back in the day, Galardos was preparing for a crusade to visit his father in the north, when he received a surprise visit by Arlene and her mother Oriana.

As the family head of House Calea, Oriana proposed a joint operation: she would send her daughter and a company of knights to assist him, in exchange for his tutelage and protection.

Arlene, she explained, had recently graduated from the Imperial Academy and was in need of live combat experience. The crusades could be an excellent proving ground for this, but they could be dangerous for a younger demigod to face alone.

Thus, if Galardos agreed to escort her daughter, Oriana would be in his debt.

It was a tempting offer, considering House Calea was a powerhouse in magical equipment. House Alessia was still rebuilding from a recent war, so earning their favor would be most lucrative.

Galardos took the deal, and lo and behold, he soon realized Oriana’s true intentions.

Her daughter Arlene was a flirt.

She was discreet at first, making the occasional provocative comment. Light enough to plausibly deny, but strong enough to linger in his head. Then, as weeks went by and some rapport was established, she would dip into the bath with him and offer to wash his back.

Far away from home, with only their knights for company, it was easy for the shrewd demigoddess to close the distance.

The ploy was obvious to her mark, of course.

She wanted a political marriage, arranged by Oriana to unite their houses and reshape the political landscape of the Empire. With House Alessia behind them, House Calea would dwarf the rival houses, second only to the Imperial Family.

The entire affair was nothing more than a power play.

And yet… Galardos couldn’t help himself.

He actually fell in love.

As it turned out, despite her scheming and cunning, Arlene’s company was a breath of fresh air in the demigod’s stale life. She was sharp, witty and bold… and somehow, she simply knew how to press the right buttons.

So, despite knowing he’d walk straight into their plans, Galardos took the bait.

He accepted Arlene, formed a relationship and returned to the Empire as a couple.

They stayed together ever since, until Galardos’ sudden escape into exile… and now that he returned to the Capital, his position had forced him to shun her.

As fate would have it, their relationship didn’t sit well with Isabella, whose marriage proposal had been turned down. And to add insult to injury, Arlene had also established an espionage organization — the Whisperveil, in direct competition to the Inquisition.

In a matter as delicate as the slain Seraph, the rivals in love were sure to clash.

Alas, Galardos knew Isabella held the upper hand in this fight.

Both women were daughters to the Guardian Dragons of their houses, but Isabella was Imperial royalty, whereas Arlene came from a vassal family. Furthermore, the Inquisition had direct ties to the Zarian Order, while the Whisperveil was an internal security force of House Calea.

Capable as she may be, if it came to an open fight with the Princess, Arlene simply was no match… and in his present condition, Galardos lacked the power to defend her.

Thus, instead of indulging in a heartfelt reunion, the demigod antagonized his lover. He made her an involuntary actor in his charade, and even asked his brother to shut her out when she inevitably went to confront him.

It was a harsh measure Galardos undertook bitterly, no matter the fact Arlene would resent him for it. But in matters that risked the wrath of the heavens, the old demigod knew no amount of caution could ever be enough.

And so he sacrificed himself alone… trusting Gizelle would keep the reaper at bay.

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HE WAS AWOKEN by the soothing sensation of a hand gently ruffling through his hair, his head lying upon a comfortably soft pillow — or so it seemed at first. When he opened his eyes and met with Gizelle’s above him, Galardos realized he was resting on her lap.

By instinct, he tried to sit up but the half-dragon’s wing blocked him.

“Nu-uh,” she said warmly. “You’re staying right where you are, my dear.”

“Madame…” Galardos started, but the demigoddess before him shook her head.

“It’s Gizelle,” she corrected him with a soft smile. “How long do you think I’ve known you, you little rascal? I won’t have you treat me like a stranger now that you’re back.”

Rascal. He’d been called many things over the past decade, but that was a first.

It was refreshing in its own way, but at the same time, Galardos couldn’t help but feel guilty about everything his past failures had cost her.

His mentorship of Princess Olivia had been a disaster, and it culminated in the war that killed Emperor Damien, Gizelle’s only son. She had every right to resent him like the Empress… yet somehow, she didn’t seem angry at him in the slightest.

For all his time in this world, the old demigod had no idea how to face her.

“You’ve had a rough time, haven’t you?” she asked, breaking the silence.

“What? Ah, no. I’m…”

“Silly. You’re family to me, you don’t have to lie.”

“…”

“We searched high and low for you, you know? After those horrible things Henrietta did to you, Olivia and I mobilized everything we had to find you. But you’re more slippery than a mouse.”

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t… I couldn’t bring myself to face you.”

“Neither could I, if I’m being honest,” Gizelle said with a sigh. “I should’ve been there for you, since long before all of this blew over.

“In truth, I knew Damien was in the wrong”, she continued. “He grew complacent with the throne and he was indulgent with Olivia. But in my hubris, I stayed in the sidelines and watched as Cyrus pushed the problem onto you.”

“They did what they could.”

“Cyrus and you did. But Damien and I sure didn’t.”

“That wasn’t on you, Gizelle. The one who failed Olivia was me. I could’ve turned down Cyrus, but I took the job only to lose my temper. Everything else unfolded because of that.”

“Maybe. But we were the ones who put you in that position to begin with.”

“You know I don’t blame you.”

“And the same goes to you. So stop blaming yourself, my boy. Put that guilt of yours behind you and be glad we can be together like this again.”

Her eyes were sincere as she gazed into his, her hands softly caressing his face.

The sight was so captivating that a wave of relief washed through Galardos, and before he knew it, he found himself dangerously close to tears.

By reflex, he tried to cast an emotional suppression spell on himself, but Gizelle quietly countered the magic with a wave of her wings.

“Ah, ah, ah~” she said, gently ruffling through his hair. “You’re not running away this time. If you have something to say, then say it.”

The demigod was at a loss.

For the past ten years, he’d been in exile as penitence for his sins. The incident with the Empress was an aggravating factor, of course, but it wasn’t the primary reason behind it.

Deep down, Galardos just wanted to run away.

He didn’t dare to face his friends and family after his failures, so he removed himself.

No matter how much they chased after him, he was hellbent to outrun them… and he would’ve kept it that way, if not for the present circumstances. But now, as he answered the call of duty for his nation, he was reunited with the very person he had hurt the most: the grieving mother of the fallen Emperor.

Gizelle, who was practically a grandmother to Galardos, should’ve resented him. She should’ve blamed him for the loss of her son, and the countless more that died with him.

But instead of that, she saved his life without hesitation. She welcomed him with open arms, nursed him back to health — and now, she wanted to console him for all the suffering he had gone through over the last decade.

Such was the mercy and compassion Gizelle had for him.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry… for everything…” the words slipped out on their own.

Then, the dam burst.

With his magic stifled by her, the old wounds were too much to bear any longer.

Shameful as it may be, the demigod wept.

“There, there… Let it out. I won’t tell anyone.”

Galardos covered his eyes to keep what dignity he could, but Gizelle didn’t judge him. She just kept him silent company, letting his battered soul have a moment of rest.