A/N: I usually break scenes within one chapter using a simple dash "-" but I just realized that it doesn't appear here. So I've edited the chapters by adding the 'horizontal line'. Sorry if you got confused with certain sections which suddenly skipped from one scene to the other. Enjoy!

The Imperial Strategist- one of the highest and most prestigious role anyone could have within a royal family.

Octavia's mother was known to be quiet, yet very observant and intelligent. In a couple of hours, she could easily come up with a battle strategy as long as her subordinates could provide her with a map. She was a bookworm- much like anyone else in Octavia's family.

Through glass roofs, just like the common baths in the empire, sunlight would alarm her mother of a new day. Often, she found herself wound up in a 'family chamber' where cushions hid clay floors and small manmade rivers muffled the sounds that rebounded outside.

Shadows of quick sparrows would flicker the light above her, not once failing to make the imperial strategist flutter her eyes open in a haze. In big square pillows, she would find herself at dawn. Momentarily, she would feel guilty that she didn't reunite with her husband after a long day at work, sometimes after long months of work.

Yet, recently she lost all connection with her emotions. And she didn't know why.

"Dear," her husband would whisper at the young woman's ear. However, similar to Octavia, she would have a thick book laid on top of her still face. She didn't respond.

Her book would be nicely placed in her folded hands, revealing the serene face it had been hiding. Light snores would always tingle Octavius' heart. She was so beautiful, he thought. One moment she was the well-known strategist. One moment she was as helpless as a newborn. With one sweep, he would cradle the blonde back to their chambers as he tried his hardest to soften his footsteps.

Her husband wasn't one to complain much. He simply enjoyed life and cared for his family. So, it wasn't surprising for him to understand why his wife got exhausted very easily. Gently, he would detach her wife's golden sword from her clutches before lying down beside her.

"Regalia?" she whimpered distressed. Golden eyes widened at the man. "The sword- where is-?"

"Beside you, dear," Octavius would say. He smiled. "Beside you,"


Octavia very well understood her position before Nero could open his mouth to explain it. The fact that she was selected to be the head of the investigation due to being a bookworm was still a mystery but it was, without a doubt, uncalled for and still bizarre. Octavia didn't mind helping. Leading a group, on the other hand, was what Octavia didn't invest confidence in.

"Is Nero cross with me?" Octavia asked Antony as she sat beneath her favourite tree. Antony stood beside her. Now that formal meetings were off, the Aurelians dressed very casually. They were advised by Morgan and Rhiannon themselves to wear loose tunics rather than their usual shirts to avoid attention. Nevertheless, blond hair always attracted attention here in the kingdom.

Antony shook his head. "Nero is rarely crossed. He is usually annoyed, milady," Octavia cringed. Nero was whiny, she thought.

"Antony, please call me Octavia. I do not like to be addressed like that," she said softly. Antony curled his lips.

"Fine, only if Atia and Nero is not around," he exasperatingly huffed.

Silence.

It had only been a few years and both Octavia and Antony could see the physical differences they had now. Antony was so much taller. Octavia's features grew a tad curvier. Not to mention how broader her shoulders were compared to then.

"Sit down," Octavia mumbled. Antony slid as he leaned against the bark.

Perhaps having a former lover as an assistant was not so bad after all. Their lack of interaction didn't hint awkwardness. Antony and Octavia could waste away hours after hours just staring at the Aletic Lake without sputtering a syllable. Yet, it wouldn't stir any sentiments between the two.

It made Octavia realize something. There were different types of friends, she thought. Normal friends would always end up awkward if it was silent for too long. Like the bath, Octavia couldn't help having butterflies in her tummy. She prayed hard for nothing weird to happen. Now that she looked at it, it made perfect sense for Morgan to reassure her that it wouldn't be awkward, as long as she stuck with her. She was closest to Morgan than any other person in Albion. She was a best friend.

Antony, on the other hand, was a true companion. They were both lovers once but now, no more and never again. However, being formerly in love, Octavia fathomed Antony and Antony fathomed Octavia better than anyone could. Not even Atia. Not even Nero.

Antony as an assistant wasn't a joke from Atia and Nero in the end. Actually, it was highly understandable. Octavia shrugged, enjoying her comprehension.

"Why am I the research leader?" Octavia curiously questioned. "Why not Atia or Arawn even? Aren't they better leaders?"

"Leadership is something that you must help sprout before your self-esteem blurs you," he replied, rubbing his chin. He pouted lightly. "Besides, argue all you want. But we both know that their knowledge skills aren't on par with yours,"

"Are you saying Atia and Arawn are daft?" Octavia squeaked in a whisper. Surprised, she blinked at him.

"No, no," he quickly responded. "I'm saying that you're the best in these kinds of things. You read well and you understand things very easily. The main priority for you is figure out its origin, weaknesses and characteristics before we set into the woods,"

Octavia's line of vision trailed to the group of ants that were devouring a fallen apple. Its succulent flesh slowly dissipated. "So I research but that doesn't mean I lead?"

"Precisely," he spoke in a gentle manner. He paused. "For the leading part- you can leave that to Nero, Arthur or Atia or me. You need not worry there,"

The blonde sighed and clapped her face into her palms. "I don't even know where to begin with research!" Mark took a deep breath.

"I see that you are more expressive now," he commented with a giggle. Then, he stood up with a grin. "I have to help Atia and Nero settle down for the big announcement now. I heard a rumour that they would hold a grand dinner tomorrow after the announcement so remember to rest,"

Expression was something foreign to Octavia most of the time. The last time she was sensitive was when she dueled with Lidia. Nevertheless, in Octavia's memory, her death was too fast in its pace for her to understand how that happened.

Though it made her wonder nowadays. Her mother had one of the most stressful occupations the empire had to offer yet she was the least expressive as compared to her sisters. She must have found feelings a huge flaw in human beings. Feelings were just a bigger hinder in their pursuit of success- success being victory in wars? Who knows? Because of her mother's lack of expression, it made her a very difficult person to understand. Octavia never bothered knowing her better.

When she cared for her children, however, Octavia could see the warmth in her amber eyes. A family bath never failed to curve her lips into a content smile. A lazy day by the family room made her eyes squint with affection.

Other than that, there was nothing. As if her mother knew love and nothing else. Other than that, she looked hollow.

She felt hollow.

"Octavia," Mark snapped. The blonde widened her eyes at him, surprised to hear her name uttered by him after so long. "Start in the Grand Library of Albion. I heard Rhiannon saying something good about it for this case. If you need help, seek for me," He turned and paced away. "I'm afraid I have to leave now,"

"Ah…" she sighed and found the once red apple, completely eaten but the seeds and stem. "The Grand Library…"