Little Emperor Syndrome Novels & Stories

Chelsea prediction came true at once, at Rogue's words , The Emperor puffed up like an oversized ballon and whirled right at their direction to stare at his son in the face . " creating a ruckus am I ? How can you even say that ? " said the Emperor looking throughly upset " I was sleeping - sleeping peacefully with Mr .Kuma Kuma here ." he said pointing at the pink bear in his left hand " mind you ..When all of a sudden out of no where , without any rhyme or reason - these two landed right on top of me ! Right on my - The Emperor of this Empire 's bed ! You're worrying about me creating a ruckus ? You should be worried about me ! Me ! Your old father - whose breath was nearly knocked out of

“I am the great emperor of the seven kingdoms who united them with my sweat and blood. I am the sovereign ruler and now I have moved beyond the realm of mere mortals. I am the ultimate one.” His grip tightened, lifting General Cade higher. The warriors drew their weapons, but none dared act rashly or hastily. They could feel the pressure in the air—the weight of something ancient that clung onto their emperor like a second skin. They felt something unnatural about the forest and desert which claimed over half their forces. The chambers of illusion and traps they had been through were even more unnatural but this— this was beyond unnatural. It felt worse. It was wrong. The herb lay between th

However, my current mood and situation does not leave enough room for me to sympathize with other people. “I am an old man already. I want you to take over the throne as soon as possible, and more importantly, I want to see the face of my grandchild. You will do your duty and pick some women to bed in order to produce an heir!” the Emperor replied sternly. His words were final.

It was only the name of the emperor - whom she thought was kind and generous to his people inside the empire "I thought he's a righteous emperor but it was only a façade. He's a great pretender after all," she whispered looking at the baby that was peacefully sleeping in the middle of nowhere where the baby was unconsciously doing different kinds of expressions as he didn't even bother to feel the surroundings

"His Highness, the Imperial Grandson, has returned!" The cries echoed one after another, rippling outward through the entire palace like waves. Outside the Emperor's private chambers, the chief steward Edmund Linton came out to greet us personally. His eyes were red-rimmed. "Your Highness, His Majesty has been waiting for you." The doors opened. A thick medicinal smell washed over us. On the great canopied bed, the old Emperor reclined against cushions. He was gaunt and withered, barely recognizable from a year ago. The moment he saw Adrian, tears welled up in his clouded eyes.

The room where the Emperor sits was colder than I remembered. Or maybe it was just me. The big, gold crown sat on its soft pillow, waiting. It felt strange, like a weight I was too weak to hold just a few days ago. My memory, which had been a jumbled mess of pain and confusion, was now clear and sharp. I saw images of people who had turned against me, like a bad scar. The kingdom was a mess, and I had just come back to try and fix it.

Although he doesn't know that there are actually two emperors, both of them became remarkable people to him; may it be the gentle and 'fluffy' one or the bad-tempered emperor. He just realized it when the fake news that the emperor is dead circulated in the imperial palace. He got sad, and cannot accept that the emperor is gone. It's like a bucket of ice-cold water got poured on his head. His heart was beating like crazy to the point that it feels like he's going to have a cardiac arrest. It's like he wants to give up on his life too.

“I can feel it when a woman watches me as I walk away. Trust me, you ain’t ever checked out my ass.” “Walk away then, Colt, and maybe I’ll surprise you,” Emerson said. Colt grinned, stuck his fingers through the loops of his jeans, and strutted away from them. Emerson stared hard at his ass, and Colt laughed. “I felt that, Emma!” She laughed, and turned to look at Eden. “There’s something really wrong with your brother.” “We call it the Colt Syndrome,” Eden said. “Come on, my office is warmer.” Emerson followed Eden back to her office, and switched the kettle on. She prepared two cups, and sat down in her chair. Emerson looked around, and fixed her gaze on Eden.

In doing so, they had confirmed what reform threatened most. Not power. Familiarity. And familiarity, once disrupted, rarely returned intact. As night deepened, Lillian understood something with quiet certainty. This was not the fall yet. This was the flinch before it. The moment when empires realized that no one was stepping forward to make them feel safe again. And that realization, once made, could not be undone. Shock would fade. Disapproval would calcify. And in the space between, something irrevocable had shifted.

I started walking. And somewhere in the northern capital, in a palace that had never once held anything as inconsequential as a servant girl from Ruen, the new Emperor sat alone in his war room at dawn with maps of a continent that was already entirely his — and felt, without explanation, without precedent, without any framework in which to place the sensation: Restless. As though something that had been very far away was, slowly, getting closer. ~~~