You still remember.

The rain had poured hard that day, turning the streets into shallow streams. You had been sitting against a wall, soaked through, when the carriage had stopped nearby. People had gone silent as Emperor Kaelith stepped down.

He had walked straight toward you. His guards had looked uneasy but none had dared to move. He had stopped in front of you and lowered a gloved hand.

"Would you like to come with me?"

His voice had been calm and even but his eyes had looked as though he meant it. So you had placed your hand in his. The glove had been cool against your skin but his hold had been steady, unshaking.

From that moment on, your life had been no longer the same.

In the palace, his children had met you with wary eyes. Aric, the elder son, already in his early teens, had stood tall and proud, watching as though weighing your place in the household. Selene, younger than him but still older than you, had been softer, her kindness careful and reserved. Neither had been cruel but both had kept a quiet distance at first, unsure why their father had chosen you.

Kaelith himself had given no answer. He had been a man of silence, cold in presence, yet never careless. When the nights had grown cold, blankets had appeared on your bed. When lessons had left you struggling, a book had been left open to the very page you needed. At meals, fruit you liked had appeared on the tray beside you, though you had never asked.

You had not understood him. He had already had heirs, children of his own blood who he loved a lot. Still, he had brought you from the streets and given you a place at his side. His gaze had been distant, unreadable but in rare quiet moments there had seemed something softer behind his eyes, gone the instant you had noticed it.

And always, the memory had returned. His hand in the rain. His steady voice.

Would you like to come with me?