He had first met His Imperial Majesty when he was naught but a court messenger for a neighboring kingdom. His king wished to form an alliance with the newly formed empire and its emperor. He was duly dispatched and arrived in less that two months later.

Six weeks on horseback, sleeping on raw ground made him surprisingly happy to see the end of his journey stretching out along the horizon, the palace of the emperor glittering behind the maze of city streets. And it was beautiful. He fell in love with the city, its culture, its people, and, when he finally laid eyes upon him, the emperor himself.

Court was in session when he arrived, finally, at the palace. He was bade to wait his turn, and gladly he did so, his eyes trained upon the golden man upon the throne. He listened carefully to every case put before him, the emperor did. He listened to what his advisors had to say. His judice was fair and decisive. All was decided in favor of the people, for they loved their newly crowned emperor, and it wasn’t hard to see why.

He knew what to say, when to say it, and how it needed to be said. He kept the peace between politicians and gained the trust and admiration of all present. Politics ruled the day and the emperor was a deft hand.

Before the foreign messenger could deliver his missive, court was closed for the day and a tired looking emperor quickly retreated.

The messenger was given suitable quarters for the duration of his stay, but soon discovered the joy of the pleasure gardens splayed out just beyond his balcony doors. Trees heavy with fruit blocked much of the night sky while the ground was cushioned with a thick covering of grass not seen so much in this desert kingdom. Blossoms peeked around leaves in several bushes that lined a path that led to a small pool of crystal clear water.

As night approached and the sky turned shades of red and purple, the messenger strolled along the path. There was a soft breeze and birds sang their final songs before turning in for the night. It was a wonderful night, built for a storybook romance. Briefly, he wondered if ever he could find a place for himself in this magical, mystical story.

While he had noticed the guards, the reason for their presence went unrealized in his mind until suddenly, as he turned a corner along the path, he came face to face with the emperor.

The elegant man was standing in the grass beside the pool side, his elegant robes gathered inelegantly in one hand above his knees as he gazed at the messenger with a slightly startled, guilty expression. He had shed his crown, his midnight black hair hanging down to his waist. The robes he wore were the same deep royal purple robes he had worn at court.

In the hand not holding the robes, he held a half eaten sweet bun.

He realized it was probably a bad idea to laugh at the emperor only after he had done so. Fortunately, the emperor found his laughter amusing and smiled in return.

The young emperor finished the bun, licking his fingers clean amid a light discussion of the messenger’s homeland.

The next day found the messenger delivering his missive with a heavy heart. His king’s offer of peace was accepted and a reply was arranged. He would carry it, away from this land he had learned to love in such a short time. Away from the man on the throne.

No matter how much he wanted to stay, he had a duty to his own king. He would carry his message off, perhaps never to return.

That night, as he once again found himself in the gardens, the emperor approached him. With him, he carried a trey laden with sweet buns and sherbert. They ate and spoke of nonessential subjects, both avoiding the topic of the messenger’s departure in the morn. Later, before the emperor departed, he requested the presence of the messenger at dawn in the royal hall.

The messenger discovered a second message awaiting him. The emperor himself handed him the scroll, requesting that he deliver this directly to his king and to return with a reply with all due haste.

Grinning happily, the messenger accepted.