Chapter Text
In the royal family’s private residence, silence reigned. A blessed silence that any parent would understand and savor.
Cale Henituse, current Empress of the Roan Empire, is currently lounging lazily on his shared bedroom with Alberu.
It was a rare quiet day. One where Raon, Ohn, and Hong had decided to tag along with their Lemon Gramps for a week.
Cale loves his children very much, but he won't refuse having a quiet day for a change.
However, Cale spoke too soon.
Bang!
The door slammed open with a bang, making Cale flinch in surprise.
Five year old Crown Prince Calixto Henituse-Crossman launched himself onto the massive bed with all the grace of a very small hurricane.
“Daddy!” he called, crawling across the silk covers and straight into Cale’s ribcage.
He totally did not learn that from his Raon-hyung.
“I need to ask something really, really important!”
Cale, who had been halfway through a leisurely sip of tea in bed, set the cup down on its saucer with the practiced care of someone who had been body-slammed by their own child too many times to count.
And he isn't joking about that.
Cale inwardly sighed in defeat. Fortunately, he is not as weak as before, and through experience he was able to become proficient at the act of child catching.
(A/N: That sounds so wrongXD)
"Good morning to you too, Calix," Cale said dryly, tucking a long lock of red hair behind his ear.
“What’s the emergency this time? Another coup in the nursery?”
Calixto scrunched his tiny face in confusion.
“What’s a coop?”
“Something involving chickens,” Cale replied solemnly, promptly making Calixto nod seriously. Cale smiled at the adorable response before repeating his question.
“Now, what’s this question of yours?”
Calixto plopped down on his stomach and kicked his little feet in the air. He even had his chin placed on both of his hands.
“It’s about Papa.”
Cale raised an eyebrow, intrigued at what his so said.
“What about him?”
The boy with brown hair like his Papa looked around conspiratorially, then leaned in close and whispered, “Why is he bald?”
The room fell completely silent.
Cale stared at his son.
Calixto blinked up at him with round brown eyes, so full of innocent curiosity and not a single drop of mercy.
And then, like a gift from the gods, the bedroom door opened with a quiet knock.
Alberu Crossman, Emperor of the Roan Empire and, unfortunately, the exact subject of discussion, stepped into the room with the heavy weariness of a man who had read fifteen reports and avoided three assassination attempts before breakfast.
He was dressed immaculately in his royal uniform, gold-stitched black coat, red sash, polished boots, but his head was very, very bald.
Shiny even, and was glowing faintly in the sunlight like a holy relic.
Cale, with the composure of a seasoned troublemaker, cleared his throat.
“Sweetheart,” he said sweetly to Calixto, just loud enough for Alberu to hear as he crossed the room, “Papa is bald because he thinks a lot.”
Alberu froze mid-step. Hands still in the process of removing his outerwear.
Calixto looked contemplative, tapping a finger against his chin.
He looked at Cale, then at Alberu, and then back at him.
“But…” he said slowly, “you think a lot too, Daddy.”
Cale took a long sip of his tea, choosing to maintain silence.
Calixto tilted his head, expression very serious.
“…Is that why you have a lot of hair?”
The silence returned heavier than before
Alberu turned to look at his husband. His expression was blank, but there was a single vein twitching near his temple.
Cale placed his teacup down, smiling like a man utterly unbothered by the burning wrath of a monarch.
“I suppose so,” he replied with a nonchalant shrug.
“Some people lose hair when they think too much. I just… grow more.”
Alberu let out a breath once before promptly turned around and walked straight back out the door.
He's too tired for another of Cale's schemes.
Calixto stared confused at his Papa's retreating back then turned his gaze to Cale with a worried look on his innocent face.
“Is Papa mad?”
“No,” Cale immediately said, lying with the ease of a seasoned politician. “He’s just... going to think a little more.”
Five minutes later, Cale entered the imperial study with Calixto perched on his hip like a princely koala.
Alberu was standing by the window with his arms crossed and brows furrowed. He didn’t even turn when they entered.
“Calix,” Cale said all too cheerfully, “go ask Uncle Beacrox for more cookies.”
Calixto immediately perked up, sparkles entering his eyes at the thought of his Papa's legendary cookies.
“Can I have the almond ones?”
“If he doesn’t give you the almond ones, tell him I said it’s treason,” Cale replied before gently placing down the excited toddler.
“Okay!”
And just like that, the tiny hurricane was gone.
As the door closed behind their son, Alberu exhaled.
“You taught him to commit treason for cookies.”
“I taught him to get what he wants with strategic wording,” Cale corrected, clearly unremorseful with his actions.
“It’s character development.”
“You weaponized him,” Alberu muttered deadpanned, but the faint twitching of the corners of his lips betrays his amusement.
“Of course I did, I married you. It’s in the job description.”
Alberu finally turned, fixing Cale with a long, withering look.
“Do you want the nobles to start calling me ‘His Bald Majesty’ behind my back?”
“Oh, they already do,” Cale said whilst smiling brightly. Alberu had to rub his temples to sooth the headache because he knows what Cale said is true.
“I heard Eruhaben-nim mutter it under his breath two days ago. Fredo cackled madly, it was quiet the show.”
Alberu dragged a hand over his face.
“Gods above– Nevermind, they're probably laughing at me too.”
It was then that Cale walked over and reached up, gently placing his hands on either side of Alberu’s head.
He tilted it slightly to the left, examining the smooth, polished dome.
“Honestly,” he mused, “you’re still very attractive. You look like an expensive pearl. Regal, mysterious, and well, just a little slippery.”
At that, Alberu let out a sound that was either a laugh or a groan.
“You’re impossible.”
“And you’re bald,” Cale said helpfully, or not. The grin on his face was the only thing making Alberu endure this all.
“I’m going to abdicate.”
“You won’t,” Cale said confidently, now rubbing his thumbs on Alberu's cheeks.
“You’re too noble and full of duty and pride.”
“I’ll make you Emperor.”
At the threat, Cale’s face immediately paled. He didn't even want the Prime Minister position, and had to negotiate a lot to remain lazy when he reluctantly became Empress. (He wanted to marry the man, not the position. Can't he just be Cale?)
But as the Emperor?
“Absolutely not.”
“I’ll shave your head while you sleep.”
“You’d never dare.”
“I’m desperate, Cale!”
They stared at each other for a long moment.
And then Cale leaned forward, stood on tiptoe, and kissed his husband right on the top of his shiny head.
Alberu stared dumbfounded at the red head. He's so speechless he took a while to find his words.
“...Did you just kiss my bald spot?”
Cale smirked before booping Alberu's nose with his finger
“Might as well. It’s royalty now.”
Alberu could only sigh in defeat and fondness.
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CHAPTER END