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And that was why he must first take the Serin throne.

"But you said yourself that I can't fix the continent with only my own power," Calix mused after listening to his teacher's explanation.

Itzae looked at the child and grinned. "That's why I'm going to find you a dragon."

Calix's eyes widened and he drew a sharp breath in.

"Is it possible?" he asked softly.

"Four years ago, I heard there was a beautiful golden-haired princess born in Mevani," the man answered. "I've been establishing a place there for myself in order to get close to the royal family."

Ah, so that's what he'd been doing while he was away from home.

Calix smiled to himself.

"A beautiful golden-haired girl in Mevani, eh?"

When the final chapter of his childhood drew to a close on that day, Calix began earnestly preparing for the takeover of the Serin throne.

While he was starting to be recognized as a formidable young man in high society and his identity as the empress's son still undiscovered, he started his preparations by making allies of important people.

Noblemen, powerful merchants and leaders of the political parties all became targets for Calix's assimilation. He focused his efforts particularly on the Morues, the party dedicated to the middle-class, that had been ignored and stomped on by the emperor for years.

Due to Anselm's mistake of openly siding with the aristocrats (and his dim-witted sons who all followed their father blindly), Calix was given the perfect foothold in the competition for the throne.

And with the charming swordsman, Thane, and perceptive scholar, Ira, by his side, Calix was rapidly gaining ground.

At fifteen years old, he found himself standing before the gate of the royal palace, invited to attend a meeting with the Morue councilmen. After three years of attending nearly every high society event, he was finally making his official debut on the Empire's political stage.

With Itzae wrapped up in his business in Mevani and Thane and Ira both excluded from the invitation, Calix was completely and entirely alone.

"Ah, the Young Lord Calix…" the guard processing his entry trailed off, giving Calix an expectant look.

"Just Calix," he replied with a polite smile.

"I see," the guard smirked, rolling up the parchment he'd received from Calix. "Go ahead and enter."

"Thank you." Calix dipped his head.

As he heard the gate clank shut behind him, his lips curled into a smirk of his own.

It would be horribly tactless of him to spoil the grand finale of the show by doing something as foolish as revealing his full name now, wouldn't it?

Having already memorized the layout previously, Calix confidently entered the main palace and started toward one of the many council rooms. His journey took him past an ornate hall leading to the emperor's audience hall, and he couldn't help but pause to survey the gaudy decorations coating every surface.

When the hallway was his, he would be certain to redecorate.

As he was about to turn back to his path, a woman came into view who'd just left the audience hall.

Just what kind of woman had the bigoted Anselm actually allowed to enter his place of business?

As she strode closer, the first thing Calix noticed was how her snow white skin stood out against her deep purple gown. Additionally, jet black locks of hair cascaded down over her shoulders, shimmering in the gold lights.

Calix audibly gasped as her face became discernable.

If her pale skin and dark hair weren't enough to give her away, the ruby-like eyes staring through him made the woman's identity clear.

"Euridice… Mother," he whispered, mesmerized by the empress as she passed him.

"Excuse me, did you say something?" the empress stopped without bothering to turn around.

"Young Lord Calix greets the moon of the empire," Calix immediately responded with a bow.

"Calix…" the woman echoed, her eyes still firmly glued to the wall in front of her. "Well, carry on then."

With a slight nod, the woman continued on her way, leaving Calix standing alone in awe.

For the first time in his life, he'd met the woman who brought him into the world. There was no way she'd recognize him, of course, but his chest still stung at her cold greeting. Had she even forgotten the name of her own son?

Pushing down the unwelcome emotion, Calix turned back toward the council room. He should be grateful the woman wouldn't ruin his plans before they came to fruition.

And feel nothing more than that.

"Oh! Young Lord!" a man with a jolly voice and long beard called to him as he approached the room.

"Greetings. I hope you have not waited long," Calix responded.

"Of course not. You're exactly on time as always," the man responded, clapping Calix on the back.

The boy's jaw twitched the tiniest bit at the boorish action, but he immediately donned his most pleasant smile and followed the man into the room.

In the meeting that followed, and several more to follow, Calix carefully stirred the simmering anger of the Morues. They already felt neglected and shamed by the lack of acknowledgement from the emperor, but Calix twisted the narrative ever so slightly.

The emperor didn't neglect them just because he'd sided with the more powerful party. It was a personal vendetta against all those who refused to stoop and lick his feet.

The shame they felt was all calculated by the emperor and his advisers and would escalate until they were rejected and ousted from society permanently.

Of course, Calix didn't exactly know if those things were true. He couldn't read Anselm's mind, after all. But as long as the Morues (and other important political figures) believed it, that was all he needed.

As if cooking a frog, Calix increased the heat slowly and quietly until, before they realized what was happening, his allies were boiling with rage against the crown.

It was perfect.