Chapter 7
November 10th, 1998
A week had passed and Hadrian’s mysterious illness had subsided. It was strange, it went away as suddenly as it came, but feeling better he opted to let it pass for now. He stood from the bed and let himself relax in the feeling of his body no longer aching.
He was preparing to bathe when Elowen entered, ready to help him change and being surprised he was already awake. “Master, you look better.” She took his hand and led him to the tub.
“I feel better too. I suppose the tonics from the healer helped.” Hadrian didn’t quite believe that though. First he gets sick out of nowhere, then he calls for a healer not expecting it to be the same as the selection, and apparently she’s unable to find the source of the issue. But now he felt just fine, as if the sickness had never even happened.
He tried not to dwell on it too much, tried not to think of the possibilities of somebody having messed with his health. But the suspicions still left him doubtful.
As he got out of the bath and Elowen moved to change him, he heard the knocking on his door. Calling for them to enter, a maid, one of the ones assigned to him by the palace, entered with a scroll in hand.
Hadrian gestured for Elowen to take it, allowing the maid to retire back to her duties. He had to try and remember their names, even after months he hadn’t interacted much with any of them, but he was just wary as he knew some were easy to persuade for the right price.
“It’s a letter from His Majesty,” Elowen exclaimed, exchanging glances with him before reading the letter out loud.
The emperor wished to have a meeting, they hadn’t had one in a while now, not after the ball at least. It’s not that Hadrian was nervous to meet with him, but after he got sick he hadn’t gone out of his quarters.
Still, it was the emperor, he couldn’t simply say no to the man. “His Majesty wants an audience, it shouldn’t be anything to worry about.” He sat down on the vanity table and let Elowen prepare him.
Hadrian selected robes of dark blue, and a white cloak to keep himself warm. He wore simple jewelry, and a pin to keep his hair from his face. Then he went downstairs where a sedan had apparently been summoned for him.
Once at His Majesty’s palace, the Head Eunuch led him to a separate wing, and then to the doors of what Hadrian could only guess was an office.
He caught the eye of the Head Eunuch before he bowed slightly to him and opened the doors for Hadrian to enter, Elowen staying just outside the doors. Hadrian nodded his head and muttered a thank you before he reluctantly stepped into the room.
His Majesty was seated behind a desk in front of a large window framed by dark red curtains, the office was quite spacious, with sofas and armchairs on one side, probably meant for having private conferences. There were bookshelves lining the walls, and another desk that had scrolls scattered across the surface.
Hearing his arrival, the emperor tore his eyes from a scroll he had been reading, looking up to meet Hadrian’s eyes.
The emperor’s expression was one Hadrian had seen before, it was the calm collected look the man wore almost all the time, the one that never let on anything he might have been thinking.
After Hadrian bowed and greeted him, he gestured for him to take a seat in one of the chairs at the other side of the desk.
They stayed quiet for a moment, the emperor picking up and putting a couple of papers away. He seemed to be in no hurry to get to the point of this meeting.
Eventually though, he looked up to Hadrian again, clearing his throat before speaking.
“You are well again.” The man observed, voice smooth as silk as it always was.
Hadrian paused at that, honestly he didn’t know what he expected, he had been absent from the morning meetings for an entire week, of course the man had noticed something was amiss.
“I am, Your Majesty.”
The emperor studied him for a moment, expression unreadable. “You did not think to mention you were feeling ill.” He said, a statement more than a question.
Hadrian spluttered, not having expected those words, they sounded almost accusatory. He took a moment to steel himself, organizing his thoughts before he opened his mouth to respond.
“I didn’t think it was anything to bring up to Your Majesty, I was just a bit unwell.” Hadrian kept his voice even, shifting a bit in his seat.
The answer seemed to dissatisfy the man in front of him, because when he said the words the emperor’s expression shifted. Hadrian was about to say something else, to appease the man as he seemed to have said the wrong thing, but he was stopped from speaking again.
“You did not think it important to inform me? Your well being is of importance to me, Hadrian.” The man’s voice was a bit on edge, or perhaps that was merely Hadrian’s mind.
Hadrian had to pause once more. He hadn’t thought about it. Why would it matter to the emperor if he was unwell? It had been nothing really.
When he didn’t immediately speak the emperor sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Do you believe in coincidence, My Noble?”
Hadrian once again didn’t answer immediately. He allowed himself a moment to consider his next words, not wanting to say the wrong thing again.
“No Your Majesty, not in the Harem at least.” He said finally, voice even.
The emperor’s eyes gleamed, a strange change, Hadrian didn’t know what it meant. But the answer seemed to have been satisfactory enough.
“Wise, nothing is ever a coincidence here.”
Lowering his gaze to think about what that meant, Hadrian spoke again. “I assume, Your Majesty, that you do not see my illness as mere coincidence.”
The emperor tapped his fingers rhythmically on the armrest of his chair. “No I do not.” His gaze sharpened. “Nor do I believe you do.”
Hadrian met his gaze, taken aback to see the emperor cared this much. “Your Majesty had been suspicious?” The question spilled before he could consider it bold to ask.
The man gave a soft hum, as though entertained by the question. “My noble, without proof it would appear as baseless accusations. Suspicion serves no purpose if there is nothing to explain the reasons behind it.”
Understanding the implications, Hadrian removed his gaze from the emperor’s. Even if he suspected foul play, without proof nothing would be done about it, at least not directly that is.
“Do you believe someone wishes you harm?” The emperor asked, his voice mild but eyes sharp as blades.
Hadrian thought about his answer carefully, he did consider the possibility after all, but he couldn’t simply admit that. There had been no clear cause, and not that much damage done now that he felt better. But the timing had been unsettling.
“I do not believe I have many allies,” Hadrian answered. “But I do not believe myself to be significant enough to be a target.” He admitted.
The emperor’s expression darkened. “You underestimate yourself.”
Hadrian frowned.
“You are the Primary Noble, highest amongst my lower ranked concubines. Your influence is not as weak as you might think, even if it’s yet to be cultivated.”
Keeping his face neutral, Hadrian curled his fingers slightly against his robes. He knew he now lived in a nest of vipers, but the emperor was clearly implying that he wasn’t an observer —part of the audience, any more, he was part of the play.
“I understand, Your Majesty.” Hadrian’s voice was steady, not betraying the cool dread that had settled in his stomach.
“Please, call me Thomas, Hadrian.”
“Pardon?”
“I would like for you to call me Thomas, My Noble.” The man chuckled, low and smooth.
Hadrian opened and closed his mouth, not knowing how to grasp the request in his mind. His reaction only seemed to further amuse the other man, who watched avidly and with a smug expression.
“Thomas then,” He said at last, the name unfamiliar on his tongue.
Thomas smiled.
-
November 15th, 1998
Felix had always hoped this day would come. It had appeared inevitable from the moment he entered the harem, he had beauty he knew that, and he was an intelligent wizard. He had hoped his many qualities would set him apart, before his unexpected pregnancy had secured his future. Standing now in the resplendent Hall, about to be officially married to his emperor and husband, the weight of the moment settled on his shoulders like a cloak.
His robes were of fine silk, dyed a deep rich green that seemed to glow with the sunlight, the color of the Concubines. His long hair was styled with golden pins resembling flowers, every inch of his figure turned into the perfect image of a spouse of the emperor.
It was all perfect.
And yet a flicker of something made him restless.
Every Concubine, every noble, every consort in the vast hall had their eyes trained on him. It made him feel exposed, their figures feeling as though they towered over him. The veiled jealousy in their gazes, and the disapproving frowns, contrasted by the neutrality of the Emperor himself.
Felix had never entertained the foolish notion of love, love had no place in a harem. But admiration? He had always admired the Emperor, and everything he represented.
As he was kneeled before the Emperor, the man crowned him with a tiara of emeralds and gold, a symbol of his new status. “From this day forward, Felix Slytherin-Corvane is to be the seventh Concubine.”
The following ceremonies passed in a blur. While some of the assembled concubines masked their resentment with practiced smiles, others barely bothered to hide their disdain.
He could feel their judgement, sharp and cold. He knew many thought of him as an ambitious man, a schemer who used his pregnancies as a stepping stone, as many did. Felix knew how to play the game, yes, knew how cruelty was as common in the harem as its luxuries. But unlike their many beliefs, he wasn’t grasping for power.
Felix did not dream of ruling over them or crushing his rivals beneath his feet. He simply wished to survive, live a life free of the harsh realities outside, full of luxury and not the poverty that many suffered.
And most importantly, he wished to carry this child to term, and have a safe delivery. To be able to hold the small baby in his arms, to give them security and the love that other children in the harem sometimes lacked. He wanted to ensure, that no matter what, his child would be protected, that this time he would be able to see them grow.
Was that truly selfish?
He smiled politely to the courtiers who offered their congratulations, and exchanged words with those who approached him.
Laying a protective hand over his still flat stomach, he knew their scrutiny came second. They could watch, and they could judge, but he had something to protect now, and he would make sure this time it lasted.
-
November 17th, 1998
Hadrian felt quite conflicted. He had known of course that the Emperor could summon whomever he pleased to spend the night. Such was the arrangement for imperial concubines —glorified spouses. It was only that months had gone by and yet all they had done was talk, Hadrian appreciated a good conversation, and the Emperor was a man of rare wit and piercing insight, but still, patience could only last so long
Was he simply not attractive enough for the man? Had he mistaken their interactions to mean something else?
The Emperor had called for Meliora the night after Felix’s ascension ceremony. And tonight, it was Daphne—who had been all too pleased to inform the others at the morning meeting, her voice laced with thinly-veiled triumph.
Daphne had been called. Before him.
Hadrian’s lips pressed into a thin line at the sting of the reminder.
At first, he had reasoned that the Emperor’s attention would remain solely on Felix, it would have made sense, yet he hadn’t.
What had Hadrian done wrong?
“Hadrian, darling you seem far away.”
The voice brought him back like a splash of cold water. He looked up to find his aunt Bellatrix watching him closely, a faint frown softening her usually sharp features. His uncle Regulus besides her looking just as concerned.
“Pardon me, I was just thinking that’s all.” He tried to sound convincing enough.
They were seated in the pavilion of lilies, enjoying the quiet and the fragrance the white flowers offered.
His aunt and uncle shared one of those brief, wordless exchanges that came from years of knowing each other too well.
However they didn’t press.
“We were discussing the upcoming events,” Aunt Bella said, smoothly returning to the conversation. “There will be at least three banquets and two formal balls in the next month alone. The solstice festival will be the grandest, of course.”
“The Emperor always hosts the winter solstice himself,” Regulus added, his voice calm and refined as ever. “And it’s usually quite the spectacle.”
Hadrian nodded absently, staring into his untouched tea.
Bellatrix reached across the table and laid a hand on his gently. “You’ll need something new to wear,” she said, tone light but her gaze intent. “Something bold. You’ve been too quiet lately. Let them look. Let them wonder again.”
He met her eyes. There was affection there, yes—but also steel. She had once been the most sought-after woman in the Empire. She knew how quickly favor turned, how dangerous silence could become.
“Of course, I will think on it.” He said quietly.
“You’ll do more than think,” Regulus replied, setting his cup down. “You will remind them why they started talking about you in the first place.”
A soft smile curved Hadrian’s lips at that. His uncle had a way of being gentle without being coddling. He appreciated that.
-
After returning to the noble's palace, Hadrian wandered the gardens, the maids keeping a respectful distance perhaps sensing his want for peace and quiet. He had taken the time to learn their names, there was Kate, who at eighteen was the youngest after Maya, and the same age as Harry. She was a short woman with short locks of blonde hair and round warm brown eyes. Kate had a sunlike personality, she loved to take care of the garden, he had noticed, and she was quite good at it.
You could find her with her sleeves rolled up, kneeling in the soil with uncovered hands that splayed over the ground and nurtured it gently. A smile was always present on her face, and once in one of their interactions her cheeks had turned a brilliant scarlet color when he had caught her singing to the tulips.
There was also Hana, a woman of twenty two, with onyx almond shaped eyes, and equally dark hair often braided or otherwise falling freely behind her in a long silky curtain, she was slightly shorter than Hadrian but carried an air of confidence and poise. She had been the first of the palace maids to introduce herself, bowing low with grace and pledging her loyalty without being asked. There was something quietly fierce about her, and it made Hadrian curious to see how she would be in the future.
He found Hana best preferred to work in the kitchen, she made an incredible Baesuk tea, a traditional Korean spiced pear tea, she had mentioned, it had soothed him when he was feeling sick, and despite not knowing where her loyalties truly laid yet, he had thanked her gratefully.
Then there was Eloise.
At thirty-three, she was the oldest among the maids, a tall imposing woman with pale skin and cold, dark blue eyes that seemed to catalog every detail around her. Her dark brown hair was always drawn into a bun, and she moved with certain precision, she rarely smiled, and never around him.
Eloise addressed him properly, obeyed every order with brisk efficiency, she was fluent in five languages, and her knowledge of herbs, embroidery, and noble etiquette was vast. If he asked for a list of what she couldn’t do, it would be far shorter.
Yet he could sense some kind of disapproval in the way she looked at him, never openly insolent, but always stiff in his presence and a patronizing lilt in her tone when she said “My lord”. He wondered if the woman did this deliberately.
As the most senior of his maids, she took it upon herself to give out orders to the others. Elowen was his head maid, responsible for overseeing the entire staff, but Eloise often acted with quiet authority, distributing tasks and speaking with a finality that left little room for questions.
He had noticed that Elowen and Eloise rarely saw eye to eye, their differences handled in curt, clipped exchanges when they thought he wasn’t listening.
And there were also the two eunuchs.
Emerson, his senior eunuch, was a man of forty-seven, firm in manner but not unkind. He had served in the harem nearly all his life, once under the head eunuch, now assigned directly to Hadrian. With his weathered face and steady gaze, he reminded Hadrian of an old general—measured, and loyal. There was something quietly grandfatherly in his tone when he gave advice, even if he rarely offered it without being asked.
Hadrian enjoyed their chats, they had even played chess once before, and it has been a great match. He hadn't won against the man but had been so close.
Leo, the junior eunuch under Emerson’s guidance, was a vibrant twenty-three year old with an easy smile and boundless energy. He had worked before in more physically demanding duties, but had finally been deemed ready to serve a concubine directly. Hadrian suspected the younger eunuch was thrilled by the change—his enthusiasm was barely hidden behind the practiced politeness.
Emerson had seen something in him, taken him under his wing, and now he seemed to be a fatherly figure for the young man. If their relationship was anything to go by, Leo seemed to regard Emerson with a lot of respect and admiration.
Emerson had confirmed that Leo was the closest thing he had to a son, and it was clearly he deeply cared for him, even if this was shown in his own particular way.
He wasn’t yet sure what to make of all of them. Trust wasn’t something he handed over lightly—not here, and not when his position was still precarious. But he guessed that forming a good bond with them would prove useful, he needed a steadfastly loyal staff, especially if he intended to survive and thrive in this place. Isolation was a vulnerability, and having your own staff turned against you a death sentence.
He continued walking idly for a while, then something out of the corner of his eyes caught his attention. There had been movement by an oak tree and behind a fountain. Turning to walk towards it, he felt Hana approaching to walk closer to him, his personal maids were tasked with other duties today so he had only brought Kate and Hana.
Not knowing what it was that he had seen, Hadrian drew his wand, but when he was about to speak a child came out from behind the fountain.
“Your Imperial Highness.” Hadrian bowed.
First prince Cairo Slytherin stopped mid-step, nearly tripping over his own boots. His red eyes—so striking and familiar—widened in surprise. “Oh!” he gasped, clutching a broom tightly to his chest.
Then recognizion passed through his eyes, he straightened and blinked up at him, his dark brown hair sticking out in every direction, clearly the result of a quick escape from whoever was supposed to be watching him. “I’ve seen you before! At the Moon Pavilion!” He exclaimed happily as if he had just solved a puzzle.
Hadrian chucked, a bit caught off guard by his enthusiasm, he was unsure whether he was required to respond.
“You’re really pretty,” Cairo said bluntly, in the way only a child could. Then, realizing how that might sound, he flushed and ducked his head.
Kate let out a soft laugh from behind, but quickly stifled it. Hana simply smiled with amusement.
“You flatter me, Your Imperial Highness,” Hadrian replied warmly. “May I ask, what are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be in lessons at this hour?”
Cairo shuffled his feet, clutching the handle of the polished broomstick. It was clearly built for a child, but elegant and well-maintained. “I was going to practice flying. Just a little. My brother didn’t want to come with me, and my governess said I had to finish my sword drills first. But I don’t like drills! I already know how to fly!”
Hadrian felt a strange sort of warmth at seeing the pout on the prince’s face. But seeing as the child was alone decided it best to find his governess and the entorch of maids and attendants that should be accompanying him.
He didn’t mean to over step any boundaries, but there was a side of him that immediately felt protective of this child. Raising a brow Hadrian asked. “Did sneaking off alone seemed like a good idea?”
The boy pouted, his brows furrowing. “You sound like my governess now.”
“Forgive me,” Hadrian said, tone light but determined. “But if you had crashed into the fountain or gotten stuck in a tree, what then?”
“I wouldn’t! I’m really good! Father said so—he gave this broom to me himself for my last birthday!” He held it up proudly. “See? It’s got a charm on the tail to make it smooth and fast and it listens really well—better than the guards.”
Hadrian crouched down slightly to inspect the broom. “It’s a fine broom,” he agreed, “and a very talented prince to fly it.”
Cairo beamed. “Have you ever flown? I bet you fly like a star.”
Hadrian laughed then, soft but genuine. “You are a very charming prince,” he said with a smile. “I do actually—back at Hogwarts, I was the Seeker and Captain of the Gryffindor team.”
Cairo’s eyes grew wide with amazement. “Really? That’s so cool! Papa says Seeker is the hardest position because you have to be fast and smart. Were you the fastest?”
Hadrian grinned, a little amused at the boy’s enthusiasm. “I’d like to think so. I had good enough instincts, and never lost a match once I joined the team.”
“You must be very good, I would like to be captain of my team too!!” Then with a conspiratorial whisper, “I bet you fly better than Papa! He is not much of a flyer either way, I don’t think he even knows how to play quidditch.”
Hadrian laughed again, covering his mouth with his hand in mock seriousness. “Now, if I say yes, you might get in trouble for agreeing.”
Cairo giggled, clearly enjoying himself. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell! But I think you are. You look like someone who flies really, really high.”
That made Hadrian pause for a moment. “Do I now?”
Cairo nodded. “Yeah. You’re… like one of those shooting stars.”
Hadrian blinked. That was… really sweet. “Thank you, Your Highness. You say such thoughtful things.”
Can I show you my broom?” Cairo asked eagerly. “It’s not as fast as a real racing broom, but Papa said it’s safe for learning. I’m not supposed to fly without a guard but… you’re here.”
Hadrian arched an eyebrow, amused. “That’s a very clever way of asking me to break a rule.”
Cairo looked sheepish, then grinned. “Just a tiny rule…”
Looking at the prince’s puppy eyes made if difficult to deny him, who could have thought such a piecing eyes could be this adorable?
And they were already outside…
“Alright, but we are going to be very careful ok?”
The words had barely been spoken before the boy was eagerly getting ready to soar.
About twenty minutes went by, which was surprising that it could take this long for them to noticed the prince was gone, Hadrian could only guessed he was good at running away.
But then the rustle of fabric and the sound of hurried steps was heard, and the boy that had been having fun moments before, closed his eyes knowing his little adventure was coming to an end.
“There you are, Your Imperial Highness!” a maid called, breathless. “We’ve been looking everywhere!”
Cairo didn’t let go of Hadrian’s hand as he met the maids worried gaze. “I was with Royal Uncle Hadrian. We were talking about flying.”
Hadrian glanced at the maids and offered them a polite nod. “He was safe with me.”
The senior maid looked torn between scolding and relief, but she bowed low. “Thank you, my lord.”
As Cairo was gently ushered away, he turned and waved. “Don’t forget your promise!”
“I won’t,” Hadrian called back. His chest filled with a strange warmth.