In the Doghouse - Chapter 206
SS-II.
Power is difficult to gain, harder to maintain, and hardest of all to relinquish—a truth no one would deny. It is not only challenging to voluntarily give up power held firmly in one’s grasp, but newly ascendant rulers rarely allow past holders of power to remain undisturbed.
In that sense, the power structure of the current empire is remarkably unique. The new emperor, with a legitimacy beyond question, rules the throne, while the former emperor, who voluntarily abdicated, continues to live quietly in a secondary residence in the imperial palace gardens instead of retiring to the countryside.
In that small house filled with memories of his late wife, he spends his days leisurely, occasionally looking after his visiting grandchildren—a long-held dream he had once despaired of ever realizing.
Despite this, he refrains from meddling in his son’s governance. The relationship between father and son has never been particularly warm.
Interestingly, it is the empress, his daughter-in-law, who frequently visits to seek his wisdom.
On this day, the reclusive former emperor made a rare visit to his old office. His grandson, with a puffy face, claimed his lap. The former emperor glanced around the office with a wistful, complex gaze and remarked,
“It seems to be functioning better than I expected. Is this thanks to the empress?”
“Yes, most likely,” replied Anton, the steadfast aide who had remained at the palace to assist.
His tone was respectful but lacked any flowery embellishment, candidly acknowledging that the empire owed its stability to the empress rather than the emperor.
Outsiders might see him as disloyal for this, but those within the palace knew his devotion to the emperor was beyond question. Indeed, if he followed his heart, he might disclose every detail of the emperor’s shortcomings.
The former emperor leafed through documents, his expression displeased, even opening drawers to inspect them. He knew his son well. Richard had been a pitiable child, having lost his mother shortly after birth.
Yet, there was a time when the former emperor had seriously considered bypassing his son and adopting a distant relative as heir, believing Richard lacked the qualities to be emperor.
And now, his son was managing the empire without disaster—all thanks to the remarkable woman he married. Of course, the empress’s greatest achievement wasn’t merely stabilizing the empire.
Atop a desk corner, Larissa perched on tiptoes, her clear voice ringing out,
“Your Majesty the Former Emperor.”
“Call me grandfather,” he replied, his attempt at a stern tone failing to mask the affection in his voice.
His adoration for his granddaughter was evident, bringing smiles to the faces of the attending servants.
Larissa tilted her head, puzzled. Hadn’t her mother said not to do that anymore? Her glass-like eyes darted uncertainly.
Still, she calculated that complying might help her get what she wanted. The clever princess quickly corrected herself.
“Grandfather.”
“Yes,” he responded, a broad smile softening his aged features.
“Larissa wanna try that.”
She pointed to the imperial seal in his hand—the very seal that had once been his, now passed down to Richard and held by many hands since.
Unlike his irreverent son, the former emperor was a stickler for rules. The servants assumed he would never allow it.
…But they underestimated how deeply smitten he was with his granddaughter.
Without hesitation, he handed the seal to her.
“Go ahead.”
Larissa accepted the imperial seal with both hands, examining it with shining, curious eyes. Observing her, many had the same thought—perhaps one day, this young girl might bear the empire’s weighty crown.
Meanwhile, the young prince’s focus was elsewhere. Lyle, sniffing incessantly, began to whimper.
“Mommyyy…”
At the renewed sobbing, the former emperor’s face showed discomfort. There was a reason he had come to this office today.
Earlier that morning, the current emperor and empress—parents of the young prince and princess—had departed for the distant northern territories.
It was their first summer retreat as a couple since the imperial marriage, a reward for producing heirs so promptly the year following their union.
The former emperor, tasked with managing both governance and childcare in their absence, had readily agreed. Courtney Devon, after all, was a woman so extraordinary that even sacrificing his remaining years for her would not feel like a loss.
As such, no matter how much Lyle cried, it would be at least two weeks before he could return to his mother’s arms. The former emperor tried to console the boy with a gentle admonishment.
“Don’t cry.”
The attendants exchanged uneasy glances. Telling a child on the verge of tears not to cry was more likely to provoke the opposite effect.
Indeed, Lyle burst into loud wails. While the former emperor had occasionally looked after his grandchildren, his interactions were limited to indulging them when they were in a good mood. Now, faced with a sobbing child, he was utterly at a loss.
At that moment, the heavy office doors flew open.
“Pardon me!”
Led by Isabella Millon, a group of maids rushed in. Holding a worn-out rabbit doll high, Isabella announced in a clear, commanding voice,
“What is this, Prince Lyle?”
