The Emperor's Wildflower

A/N: This is a story about the struggles of an emperor in his relationship with his wife and his work. There is drama in it but it is not going to be extreme, it is mainly an easy read. Just keep in mind that there are topics such as depression, starvation, and death.

A/N 2: This story will be on Galatea on September 16th of 2026. You can read the first 5 chapters here on Inkitt, the rest will be on the Galatea App.

Enjoy >3

POV: BASTIAN

You know it’s going to be an important evening when the court pulls out all the bells and whistles. My outfit is the imperial ceremonial costume, and my chamberlain carefully buttons up my coat. Then he runs a polishing cloth over all the buttons and medals so they will gleam under the lights.

The door to my room opens, and in the mirror, I see my mother strolling in in her ball gown. “Mother, what a surprise,” I say with slight sarcasm as I turn around and give her a kiss on the cheek.

She looks me up and down and brushes some invisible dust off my coat, then nods approvingly. “You look handsome, darling. I’m glad you agreed to tonight,” she says, and I have to make an effort not to roll my eyes, so I turn back to the mirror.

The chamberlain hangs the sword around my waist and places the sash over my shoulder, then fastens it with the imperial brooch. “Some wax for his hair too, Max,” my mother mutters to him as he walks past, and I have to chuckle when he first looks at me for permission.

“I hope you’re ready to mingle with all the marriage candidates?” She takes the wax from Max’s hands, and he looks at me apologetically.

I shake my head, chuckling, and tell him that I’ll manage on my own.

“I’m going to do my best, Mother.” I lean forward a little so she can do my hair, just like she used to when I was little. It feels a bit strange now at my age, but my mother is in a caring mood, which is rare, so I’d better leave her be.

“I know you would have preferred things to be different. But you also know that the country needs a stable imperial situation. And that means an emperor married to a strong woman who stands by his side during the difficult times we are likely to face as a country.”

I repeat the words in my head because I have heard them often in the past few weeks.

“Oh, and be sure to talk to Lady Doria, Maria Weismar’s daughter. I personally think she is the perfect candidate for you.” She styles my hair to perfection and goes to wash her hands when she is finished.

I look in the mirror and find it a bit too stiff, so I run my hand through it to make it slightly less tight. Then I put on my white gloves and walk to my balcony to get some fresh air.

When I look down, I see a figure walking under the trees. The person seems to be reading a book. It is clearly a woman, given the large dress she is wearing. And as she comes into the light a little more, I see that she has long hair down to her hips.

As if she senses someone staring at her, she looks around and eventually upward, where she catches my gaze. She stands stock-still and places her hand on her chest, as if startled. She has a delicate little face, almost angelic, and I cannot look away.

I feel my mother come and stand beside me, and when she sees what I am looking at, she sighs deeply. The woman in question spots my mother, bows low, and almost runs out of the garden.

“I think you startled her,” I say with a chuckle, and she huffs beside me.

“She should have been inside,” she mumbles, and I shake my head with a laugh.

We walk back inside, and I see that my adviser Gerhald is just walking into my room. “Your Majesties, they are ready for you,” he says, and my mother hums approvingly and follows him to the hallway.

I sigh deeply and crack my neck to release the tension. The last thing I want is to become attached to a woman who was chosen for me rather than chosen by myself. But the country is unstable, so this is what I have to do.

When I arrive at the entrance to the ballroom, my mother is just being announced and walks inside, but not before she shoots a meaningful glance in my direction.

“Please raise your glass for Emperor Bastian Jeremiah Heingelberg,” Gerhald calls out, and I gather all my courage and walk into the packed hall.

My announcement is met with loud applause, and I am swamped with people wanting to greet me. My mother stands next to two women and beckons me over. The two women curtsy deeply, and I kiss the hand of the older woman first.

“Lady Maria, welcome,” I say, and she rises and gives me a polite and practiced smile.

“It is an honor, Your Majesty. May I introduce my eldest daughter? Lady Doria.” She places her hand on her daughter’s shoulders, who is still standing in a curtsy before me.

I take her hand and press a light kiss on her knuckles. So this is the woman Mother is so enthusiastic about.

“Lady Doria, it is an honor,” I say smoothly, and she stands up, and my eyes catch her green eyes.

She has wavy brown hair that reaches her shoulders in neat waves. She is polite, and in the time we stand talking together, I notice that she is made for imperial life.

Her answers are polite, politically correct, and never offensive. She seems sweet, but maybe in a practiced way?

I feel someone come to stand behind me, and a hand falls on my shoulder. Lady Doria sees the person and falls into a deep curtsy again. I look behind me and smile at my brother, Jonas.

Jonas greets Lady Doria and says he has to steal me for a moment. Doria and I say goodbye, and I follow Jonas to a corner of the ballroom where he thrusts a glass of brandy into my hands.

“No wine?” I ask, and he chuckles as he comes to stand beside me.

“I thought you could use something stronger,” he mumbles, and I grin. Jonas knows exactly how much I hate a ball.

“Have you finally given in to Mom’s nagging?” he says jovially, and I shake my head but can’t suppress a laugh.

“Yes, I have a lot of people I need to talk to tonight. And Mother has set her sights on Lady Doria,” I mumble as I lean back against the wall and watch all the people dancing and chatting in the room.

“You know you can say no, right?” he says with an elbow in my side, and I laugh humorlessly.

“You know about the situation at the borders, brother. I need to show that the country has someone to fall back on. And one way to do that is an imperial wedding. And you know how long I’ve been putting it off.” I say it almost like a petulant teenager and not the thirty-two-year-old man that I am.

“I hope the best for you, brother. That woman will have our mother as a mother-in-law… I wish her all the luck,” he says with a twinkle in his eye, and I can’t suppress a laugh.

“Don’t let Mother hear you say that,” I say, chuckling, and he shakes his head with a smile.

I mingle with people again and listen politely to everyone. The mothers are more intense than the fathers. They are like vultures who see me as prey and won’t let go. But when a father offers his seventeen-year-old daughter as a candidate, I draw the line.

I thank him and say that I have no interest in a child, which he doesn’t appreciate. But he tries not to show that to me.

Another woman I sometimes see having tea with my mother offers both her daughters. The eldest as an empress, and her younger daughter as a sort of side dish.

God, people are crazy. They literally do anything just to buy their way up the ranks these days.

Mother walks over to us and looks disapprovingly at our small glasses of brandy, but says nothing about it.

“She is the perfect woman, my dear son, believe me,” says my mother, and I know she is talking about Lady Doria.

“It’s okay, Mother. I’ll give her a chance,” I say somewhat dejectedly, and I feel my mother breathe a sigh of relief next to me.

So far, she was the one I have been able to talk to best. “I will arrange a meeting for you two, so you can get to know each other better.” She squeezes my arm and makes her way toward Lady Maria, who is clearly already waiting in anticipation.

I walk farther into the establishment to mingle with the people. One of those people is General Jaques, who comes to stand before me with a brief bow.

“Your Majesty, what a beautiful evening. And I heard there was a chance you might be choosing a fiancée tonight?”

I look at him emotionlessly for a moment. I don’t like it when people interfere with my personal affairs.

But unfortunately, the general is part of those affairs, since he was one of the people who said that marriage would make the country look stronger.

“Thank you, General. But I haven’t made a choice yet. Fortunately, there is no shortage of…candidates,” I say, looking around at all the parents and ladies watching me with eager eyes.

Jonas comes to stand beside us, and the two men greet each other. “I think it would be a good idea for you and your future fiancée to take a tour of the city. Your mother and I have already discussed it, and the army would be happy to escort you on your outing.”

I close my eyes but then cast a deadly glare at my mother. People need to stay out of my business.

“Thanks for the offer, General. But it is nowhere near that point yet, and I don’t think an outing is necessary for the time being. But when I do want one, I know who to turn to. If you would excuse me.” I give him a nod and don’t give him a chance to respond.

“Good luck, brother,” Jonas whispers in my ear before walking off, and I rub my hand over my temple as I feel a headache coming on.

God, I need some air and a little time away from all these people. I catch Gerhald’s eye, and he hurries toward me.

“I’m going to take a walk in the gardens, can you make sure I’m not disturbed there?” I say as I finish my glass and hand it to him, and he nods.

“Yes, Majesty, I’ll make sure it’s taken care of,” he says, and I put a hand on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Gerhald,” I say, after which I walk out of the room and head toward the gardens. I stroll past the beautiful trees and flowers and sit on the edge of a fountain. I put my elbows on my legs and hang my head, lost in my messy thoughts.

I hear the crunch of pebble stones under shoes somewhere far away and I sigh. “I think I wanted to be alone,” I say in a loud voice, and I hear someone gasp in shock. What strikes me most about the gasp is how feminine it sounds.

I look around and catch the eye of a young woman in an emerald-colored ball gown; she looks at me with big, shocked eyes.

“I didn’t want to be disturbed,” I say sternly as I stand up, and she almost falls to the ground in a deep curtsy.