The crisp afternoon air drifted through the imperial garden as my great father—the terrifying yet oddly comfortable human furnace—walked with me still cradled in his arms. Ahh… fresh air, finally. My earlier dramatic meltdown had drained all my baby energy, but now I felt refreshed.
Just as I was basking in the glory of the afternoon sun, Nanny appeared, holding a bottle of warm water.
"Your Majesty," she said, bowing slightly. "The princess must be thirsty after all that crying."
I was not! (Okay, maybe a little.)
Father took the bottle without a word and, to my utter horror, brought it to my lips.
Whoa... The almighty emperor... was feeding me.
For a split second, I considered rejecting the bottle purely out of dignity. But then… ahh. The warm water slid down my throat, and wow… it was refreshing. My tiny body felt recharged, like a royal baby battery. Maybe crying had some perks after all.
"She really likes being with Your Majesty," Nanny commented with a knowing smile.
