Butterfly Reign

11. You're crying tears for me; how can you?

You don't even know what I'm going Through

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As soon as those words left the Emperor’s mouth, his expression shifted at once. That sour frown, a twist of his lips – maybe Tommy could’ve deciphered it if it wasn’t for the blood rushing from his head and turning his vision spotty. Heartless , it echoes in his ears. It wouldn’t be the first time somebody called him cold, or cruel, or any of the things along this line – but never has ever it been to face, and never by his own family, by his own father.

For a few seconds, Tommy is at a loss of words. It burns oddly in his chest, and his lungs feel like decaying, withering as the fire turns them to ash, but it doesn’t burn as much as the liquid anger that is pumped through his veins.

Everything that Tommy had done throughout this evening was for the Imperial family’s sake; except for only when he snapped and blurted out his honest opinion on Ranboo. Is it fair that a single slip on his side strips him of all his achievements and begging for mercy at the Emperor’s feet?

Yes, the more rational part of him speaks. It’s harsh, it’s scolding, and it reminds Tommy of all his wrongdoings in a voice that sounds too much like the Emperor- and it’s right . That’s the way the court works. No matter how perfect one’s reputation might be, one harsh fall is all that it takes for you to be forever drowning in a swamp of prejudice.

And yet, despite knowing that well, The Emperor still brought Ranboo here. He didn’t care about what sort of rumors it might cause, nor reprimanded Wilbur for further embarrassing them in front of foreign guests – and now he speaks like the crown-prince was the one to blame for this entire mess. Tommy hates Ranboo with seething fury, for that he had become the culprit of conflicts inside the Imperial family. He doesn’t have any sympathy for him, either – and if that makes him heartless, then so be it.

"My personal feelings do not play any role in the matter,” Tommy spits out. "Unlike His Majesty, I know to separate my personal and Imperial affairs."

And just like that, the unreadable look on the Emperor’s face is gone. "You're pushing it, Theseus,” he warns, anger quivering in his voice.

But Tommy can’t stop himself now. His body is shaking, fingers curled into fists, and his lips are pressed into a thin pale line. The little self-control he has left is drained on managing his expression and keeping his voice down. Even at a time like this, Tommy can’t forget that they’re still surrounded by people who are watching them out of curiosity.

"No, you're the one who started this," he says, almost growling. "Ranboo’s presence in the palace and all the possible consequences that come with it are outside of my responsibility. You’re the one who invited Ranboo to the palace, whether it’d be out of pity or for your own amusement-”

“That’s enough,” the Emperor says, taking a step forward. “Get out, Prince Theseus.”

Both the Emperor’s tone and the pain of a bit-down tongue make Tommy's tirade falter.

“…What?” he asks, his voice weak and shaky.

"I said, get out of my eyes. I don't want to see you for the rest of the evening,” the Emperor repeats, with more control over his fury, one that reverberates within Tommy in a cold wave of shock. His feet freeze to the floor and thousands of thoughts all flash in his mind at once. This very day, he spent weeks planning and working on- surely, the Emperor doesn’t mean it. Surely, he wouldn’t kick Tommy out of the event that he himself has organized.

But the longer the pause lasts, the more obvious it becomes – he would, and he is. The Emperor glares at him expectantly and all that is left from Tommy is to lower his widened eyes and swallow down the lump forming in his throat.