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The day Claude loses his only daughter goes like this.

It is a bright day, perfect for a tourney and a feast, the sun's golden rays perfectly shining onto the feasting grounds and illuminating the balustrades and the golden accents around. Athanasia and Lily were situated onto the far back of the royal box, just far enough so anyone can recognize that they were of no importance but also near enough to recognize Athanasia's place within the royal family. He wanted to move Athanasia further up but she had complained about the sun, so that was the end of it.

The Arlantan and Eorkan party had seen it fit to organize a tour to negotiate with them on certain matters like the border issue and other more religious matters, and like the good hosts they were – because Obelia is rich, and needs to secure bragging rights – they had agreed on a five day stay.

Of course, tourneys and banquets are part of the package deal.

But that is not where Claude's real problem begins. If it did, Athanasia would have been a thousand leagues away from home by now, travelling the Free Cities with no royal decree that can force her to turn back.

It starts with Duke Eckart's adoptive daughter - magenta-haired and turquoise-eyed - in all her voluptuous glory coming in to swoop the gloomy princess away from them. She comes with a carefully sculpted expression, red-painted lips primping Jeanette and Claude carefully - the former eating her mummer's farces up. Jeanette doesn't particularly pick up on how fake it is, but hardly anyone does, for that matter.

The mad dog of the Eckarts - the deposed Empress of Eorka Empire - toddled over - as if she was still the socialite Empress, as if he could not hear the sound of her mana creaking with decay and exhaustion as she funneled her glamoured body past the point of no return - curtsied before Athanasia, and took her out of the royal box, hand in hand, smiling.

When Claude sees his daughter once more, she is in Penelope Eckart's box.

He keeps his gaze on her for the entire time.

::

Jason Blanchett is a wonderful knight - more than wonderful, a prodigy with weapons, far surpassing many of the Imperial Knights twice his age. He is easily the most magnificent thing the people, commoner and nobility alike, have seen in their decades of existence, with emeralds for eyes and molten gold for his hair, curling out at the end like mystical wisps.

Heir to a great dukedom, the number of ladies who wished to be his bride was as innumerable as the number of leaves and flowers in the spring.

So when Jason Blanchett won against Theodore Langley in the final round of the competition, the arena had erupted into a loud cheer - loud enough to make his ears ring and tremble - and even louder had it been when he retrieved the crown in which he would crown his chosen lady.

The crowd cheered and cheered. Until it suddenly stopped, the once deafening cheers that thundered the very ground of the arena chilling to silence.

Claude remembered vividly the moment the cheers stopped, when Jason Blanchett urged his horse forward, past the Sodionnian Princess Duke Blanchett had been trying to make a match with his son, past Princess Jeanette - although for her part, she did not look as embarrassed or heartbroken as Princess Miranda had been - past the daughter of the many great houses whose expressions did a wonderful turn of 180 the moment it became clear that he was determined not to give his crown of flowers to any of them.

The further Jason got, the more the cheers quietened, and when he finally stopped, it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. For Jason Blanchett had chosen to stop in front of the box of the deposed Eorkan Empress, but even then he rode past her, until he finally was right before Athanasia. Dimly, he was able to register the satisfied smile that paints Penelope Eckart's lips as she watched the two of them.

Then he smiled, as bright as the sun, holding out his crown of purple flowers, with a gaze that seemed only Athanasia was in it, proclaiming in a loud voice, "For the fairest, for my eyes see nothing but your beauty, my lady."

His daughter was silent for a few beats - though from the awkwardness of it all, one might think the silence had lasted for minutes - before she hesitantly stretched her arms out. Jason did not, however, place it in her hands. Claude for a second was tempted to hang his jaw from the audacity of it all - but refrained himself.

The boy swung a leg over his saddle, then climbed the balustrade that separates them, and placed the crown of flowers in her hair delicately. Athanasia's face flushes a deep scarlet, and she hides her face when the little duke places a kiss upon the back of her hand.

Claude sinks back to his seat, chanting a mantra in his head that is more or less designed to brainwash himself.

Jason Blanchett is a kind man. He sees all – he helps all.

Athanasia is a charity case for him.

This is what he tells himself.

::

"Imperial Father," the curt greeting of his younger daughter echoed throughout the hall who has gone hushed with her arrival. The events of the tourney and the banquet were still fresh on their minds, and the nobility was been going mad trying to wrack their minds why on earth would such a high-standing noble endear himself to the princess who was just one inch away from being the blight of Obelia. "Blessings and graces to the Imperial Sun of Obelia."

The rubies were gone now, replaced by red diamonds that the Blanchett boy had presented as gifts. Claude almost snorted. He could do better than that. He had access to an Empire's treasury. But Blanchett? Only a dukedom's.

Still, he nodded to them with a face of neutrality - a far cry to his hostility a few years ago. He knows he sounds foolish, now wanting his daughter's affection back after all these years he spent shunning and tormenting her.

The way Athanasia favors the colors of black and red is a startling thing. The Imperial House of Obelia's colors had always been blue and gold - gold for royalty, and blue for their famed jewel eyes. Athanasia, despite not receiving favorable treatments from the crown had always seen to it that she followed decorum and dressed in their house colors.

But that was the before.

This was the now.

She's not actually breaking the rules, per se, but the way she had gone to favor black and red to mad and obsessive levels was deeply concerning. She threw out her non-red jewelry in favor of purchasing more red gemmed ones - despite rubies being significantly cheaper than the jewels she previously had. The effort Felix had gone to save Diana's precious jewelries was commendable.

Claude, in light of his newfound affection for his estranged daughter, discreetly sent over some jewelries encrusted with jewels that were not rubies. Felix finds them in the pawnshop with the highest bid the afternoon after. Claude had never felt so insulted in his two decades on the throne.

There were whispers then that she had turned mad, from the maids who often caught her out of bed in the late hours of the night, walking through the abandoned halls of the Ruby Palace muttering strange things to herself. The lickspittles in the Ruby Palace had claimed that the Princess was a witch who used dark magic, so much so that the price of it was already bearing on her physicality already - one which everyone saw.

Athanasia, the picture of Claude himself, with golden hair and gem blue eyes, had been a far cry of her former appearance. The gem blue eyes that represented royalty was still in there, but the golden hue of her hair was already gone, replaced by silvery white ones that made her look more Alpheus than Royal. Stress, the royal physician had said, was the underlying cause of this.

And despite his initial misgiving and distrust of Jason Blanchett, the boy undeniably understands his younger daughter better. He gives her gifts that please her, says words that soothes her temper in a way that he hasn't been able to. He'd tried the first one, and he and Felix knew how that went, and the second one, Athanasia wouldn't even look at him without him fearing for the worst.

So Claude lets him stay.

This is his next mistake in his long list of failures.

The party resumes, but not without much whispers. The deposed Empress of Eorka is one of the many hot topics among the circles, sauntering almost immediately to Athanasia after she made the proper greetings to him to engage into a conversation with them. Claude, being the paranoid man he was - after that whole stint in Sycansia - decided to eavesdrop in their conversation. There is no gathering as queer as that of the trio they made: Athanasia, Penelope, and Jason.

Athanasia is a social pariah in the groups of High Nobility, seen as lesser due to the absence of Claude's favour. Penelope is the opposite, she who enjoyed the gossips at the tables of nobles even after Emperor Callisto had deposed her in favour of Yvonne Eckhart - a slight which she has never outwardly forgiven them for, if the derisive glances as she looks at the emperor like there was dung under her nose was to go by.

Now the two might have similarities due to being women, but that does not explain Jason Blanchett's presence, unless he was interested in his own sex, that is.

To his consternation, Claude is not blind enough to know why Jason sticks close to Athanasia. He sees the man's gentle touches, sees the yearning in his eyes that Claude is almost tempted to close his eyes around him just to ignore the obvious thing happening under his nose.

Claude rarely saw Athanasia. The girl was rarely at Obelia - and if she was, she would be holed up in the Ruby Palace unless Jeanette invites her out, which was a lot, given that she was only there for a grand total of three months every year, five if they were lucky, and that was if the Sycansian Academy was too short-staffed for the break to house their students in the dormitories.

After the disaster – namely orchestrated by the Margaritas – that was caused by his very A+ parenting, Claude was, at the end of the day, human. Contrary to what others expected of him, he did know not to toe the line that Athanasia had drawn between her and him, and he knew better than to act as if everything was fine.

Most of the time, she would be gone for eleven months, something about a trip for one of her classes he had no way of knowing was true or not but had to bite his tongue and accept it because she always comes prepared with her excuses - official signed document about a trip for extra credit he knows she does not need. Had she gone to the academy in Arlanta, he might have coerced the Alpheus boy to keep an eye on her, had it not been for the fact that seven years ago, Athanasia quietly snuck away from the carriage to Arlanta and went to Sycansia Public Academy for the Gifted.

At that time, he did not care so much - yes, stupid stupid Claude who took her for granted - and was regretting every braincell he had burned for that decision.

"You'd look better if you had purple eyes, Your Highness."

Claude sharply turns to the direction of the sound – even Alpheus turns too, in shock, for taunting the symbol of legitimacy was something royals could see fit as an act of treason – narrowing his eyes at the redhead who he judged had too many glasses of wine for her loose mouth.

Duke Eckhart looked flustered – not that he needed to, because the last thing he wanted was to be at war with Eorka. Seriously, was it a running theme for blonde emperors to lose what they should have valued the most? Because it was not funny at all.

"Really, now?"

"Goes better with your hair, trust me. Should have done it in braids than free flow as well."

Athanasia gives her a rare smile. "Lady Penelope, are you asking to be my lady-in-waiting?"

The two walks hand in hand, and the nobles give them a wide berth. Athanasia is the newest sensation after the stunt Jason Blanchett pulled, and she looks... happy.

"Mayhaps another time, Your Highness. The world is vast, and I haven't seen all corners of it yet. May I suggest some candidates?"

A chuckle. "Ah, I fear I'd ruin their chances of a proper marriage. Besides, there is little need of one in the academy. Lily is enough."

Claude breaks his stare, then proceeds to nurse his forlorn-ness with yet another glass of wine. It's good, he thinks, the wine, that is. Perhaps he should give a reward to the suppliers. He's only five glasses in and he's already feeling numb in and to all the right places.

The banquet goes as well as he could have imagined it, but it comes with a form of torture he cannot escape so long as he is emperor – read; double crossing backstabbers.

When the music finally comes, Claude is almost tempted to groan in relief – if only because it gave the sniveling lickspittles another thing to focus on – when he sees the barest hints of golden and silver hair on the dance floor.

Claude squints, and almost destroys his throne.

Jason Blanchett, nearly thirty summers old, had taken his daughter, fresh out of her four and tenth birthday, to dance.

And he looks at her the same way he had once looked upon a pink-eyed Sodionnian dancer with the golden hair Athanasia once had.

::

"Father, am I not your daughter as well?"

 "Foolish wretch, you and I both know well that I will never see you as such."

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