So You Might be Soulless

11|| Your Highness

Sebastian could never guess what was going on in his father's mind, but he knew that whatever reason he had called for Diya could not be good.

He had been given his sword back- clean of any blood, as was its remarkable properties- and sheathed it by his side. Thinking back to Diya's style of swordsmanship, a strange recognition flickered like a weak candle inside him. I swear I've seen that fighting style before–

"Duke and Duchess Elsher–" Emperor Carlos barely finished his sentence before the greedy couple were before him. He smiled through their obsequious greetings before speaking. "I was wondering if I could have a word with your daughter in private?"

"Of course!" Duke Elsher quickly agreed. He glanced at Diya and she could easily read the message in those cold eyes. Don't mess this up.

"Sebastian, Miss Elsher, please follow me," Emperor Carlos said, turning around.

Stranger danger unless he's the Emperor. Diya thought sullenly, following Sebastian.

Diya was led down a nauseously ostentatious hallway. The large and impressive paintings served as overbearing reminders: No matter how great you are, remember your place. You are beneath us. Tuck your shirt in.

Emperor Carlos twisted an elaborately decorated gold knob and pushed open the door. Sebastian held it open for Diya and she brushed past him coldly, barely offering him a backwards glance.

The room was clearly the Emperor's study. Books with uncracked spines lined the impeccably kept bookshelves pressed against the far right side of the room. A quaint seating area with comfy chairs and a coffee table dominated the middle, and a desk with papers piled on it in tidy piles was pushed on the left.

An oil-painting of the previous Emperor and Empress hung over the desk. Diya wondered how Emperor Carlos could get anything done with his parents forever frozen in judgemental stares behind him.

"Please, both of you, take a seat." Emperor Carlos gestured grandly to the chairs, sinking into his own.

Diya obeyed, trying to avoid making eye-contact with the Emperor or the figures in the painting. The air crackled with a nervous energy, and she didn't even need to look over to know Sebastian was the cause of it.

"Why did you call me here? Your Highness." Diya hastily added the last two words, her hands curled into tight fists in her lap.

"Diya Elsher...I have heard much about you," Emperor Carlos said, with an unsubtle glance at her wrist.

Diya tugged on the sleeves of her dress with slightly sweaty fingers. Sebastian had been without prejudice, but she could not expect the rest of the Imperial Family to be the same.

"Father, why have you called us both here?" Sebastian asked, dragging the Emperor's attention away from Diya.

"I was incredibly impressed with your display of bravery in the room just now, Miss Elsher. The Imperial Family is forever in your debt. Furthermore, Sebastian told me how you helped defeat the Fjardka in town before too much damage could be done."

"It was nothing," Diya said, wishing this conversation would end quickly and she could leave. It was a bad idea to come here today.

"Not at all!" Emperor Carlos smiled and pulled over a thick stack of paper, "You managed to subdue an enemy even the Imperial Guards were struggling with twice, you showed brilliant skill with a sword, and you are a Necromancer. Despite the... shall we say, negative stigma surrounding your kind, you are quite the powerful individual."

"Thank you, Your Highness." Diya accepted with a respectful bow of her head, secretly not liking the way the Emperor said 'your kind'. But she would have to swallow down her displeasure if she wanted to make it out alive.