Chapter 34: Chapter 34: Pain
As dinner progressed without any violent outbursts or attempted murders, like the tumultuous meal from the previous night, Kastiel, Rowan, and Kilian joined the royal family at the table. Alaric was not a tyrannical ruler who insisted on rigid adherence to protocol; he allowed Malcolm to sit near Kilian, and even permitted Austin to occupy the crown prince’s seat beside the Emperor himself.
Austin’s eyes sparkled with excitement as he regaled Alaric with tales of his swordplay lessons under Sir Galahad’s tutelage. The Emperor listened attentively, nodding along as Austin spoke animatedly. Every so often, Alaric would glance over at Carlton, relieved that his Empress did not appear angry but rather deep in thought as he ate. Alaric found himself growing increasingly curious about what thoughts might be swirling through Carlton’s mind.
Meanwhile, Carlton stared off into space while mechanically chewing his food, lost in contemplation about Tristan’s unsettling revelations regarding his ’god’. His mind raced with disturbing possibilities about this unknown pervert who seemed to have an unhealthy fixation on age gaps and youthful lovers .
Just as dinner was winding down and everyone was starting to relax, an abrupt clatter startled the group. All eyes turned to see Kastiel hunched over, clutching at himself with a flushed, sweat-drenched face that betrayed immense pain or some other form of distress.
Rowan immediately sprang into action, wrapping his arms around Kastiel’s trembling body in concern. "Darling," he asked urgently, "has it started again?"
Kastiel simply nodded in response, his lips pressed tightly together as if afraid that even the slightest utterance might unleash whatever was troubling him.
As pandemonium erupted around the dining table, with everyone flustered and alarmed by Kastiel’s sudden distress, Alaric remained an oasis of calm amidst the chaos. With a simple wave of his hand, he seemed to effortlessly repel Rowan and Kastiel from the rest of the group.
"You may immediately take Kastiel to the nearest available chamber," Alaric commanded in a steady voice. "Regarding Kilian, do not fret - we shall look after him here, and I will dispatch a messenger to your residence so that your two youngest children are apprised of your situation and whereabouts."
Rowan wasted no time scooping Kastiel up into his arms like a bride on her wedding night. "Thank you very much for your kindness and understanding, Your Majesty!" he called out over his shoulder as he swiftly exited the dining room.
Before departing entirely, Rowan turned back to address Kilian with gentle concern etched across his face. The young boy looked visibly worried about his daddy’s condition but also demonstrated remarkable maturity for one so young.
"Kilian," Rowan began solemnly, "we will be staying here at the palace tonight. I must focus on nursing your sick Daddy back to health, so you must promise to be a good boy and heed whatever instructions Emperor Alaric or Empress Carlton give you. Do you understand?"
Kilian’s sweet voice wavered slightly with emotion but still managed to convey his compliance and understanding. "I understand, Father," he replied earnestly. "Please take care of Daddy and make him well again soon. I’ll do my very best to behave myself."
Rowan nodded approvingly at his firstborn son’s poise and obedience in the face of such trying circumstances. He had every confidence that Kilian would acquit himself admirably in their absence. With one last reassuring smile for his child, Rowan strode out of the dining room with Kastiel cradled securely in his arms, following after the maid who had quickly shown them to a vacant guest chamber.
As they disappeared from view, Alaric turned his attention back to Kilian with a warm smile that seemed designed to put the boy more at ease.
"Don’t you fret, Kilian," Alaric reassured the young boy with a reassuring smile. "Your Daddy will be right as rain tomorrow. Your Father has a way of mending things... shall we say, uniquely... he can heal your Daddy... because only he can." He winked playfully at Kilian, leaving the meaning open to interpretation. "Why don’t you go play with Prince Malcolm and his siblings after this?"
Kilian’s worried brow instantly smoothed out as if replaced by a sunbeam. A wide grin spread across his face, revealing teeth that sparkled like polished pearls. "I understand, Uncle Emperor," he chirped back eagerly. "I believe my Father will heal Daddy just like always!"
Malcolm chuckled softly and patted Kilian on the head affectionately while Austin piped up in his usual boisterous manner: "Uncle Kastiel is going to be fine! My Daddy gets like that sometimes too – but thanks to Father Emperor he’s back on his feet in no time! Though sometimes they need three whole days locked away before Daddy is all better again. But don’t worry - it’s always worth the wait!"
"......?"
Carlton frowned slightly, his brow furrowing as he tried to process Austin’s words through the haze of his own troubled thoughts. Something about this exchange seemed...off somehow. The implications behind Austin’s innocent chatter sent an involuntary shiver down Carlton’s spine even as he struggled to put his finger on exactly what felt so unsettling.
The Emperor’s cryptic words about Rowan’s "mending things uniquely" had already set off alarm bells in his mind, but Austin’s casual mention of three-day lock-ins left gis utterly baffled. What exactly was going on here? Was this some bizarre form of medieval spa treatment he wasn’t aware of? Or something far more sinister...?
Alaric felt his heart sink as he noticed Carlton’s piercing gaze boring into him, a look of suspicion and accusation etched across the Empress’ handsome features. It was as if Alaric had been caught red-handed in some nefarious scheme, despite having done nothing wrong. The Emperor swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his spouse’s scrutiny like a physical force.
"Why are you looking at me like that, my love?" Alaric asked softly, trying to keep the tremor from his voice. "I assure you, there is no cause for concern."
Carlton fixed him with an unblinking stare, arms crossed over his broad chest. "Well," he began slowly, "you know I don’t remember anything... I need you to explain it to me." There was an undercurrent of steel in his tone that brooked no argument.
Alaric nodded solemnly, understanding Carlton’s predicament all too well. The amnesia had left the Empress vulnerable and reliant on others for information - a situation that clearly rankled him based on the tight set of his jaw.
Then Carlton snapped his fingers, a sudden recollection striking him. "Does all this have anything to do with the ’side effect’ you mentioned last night?" His eyes narrowed meaningfully at Alaric.
"We should discuss this in private, my love..." Alaric murmured, glancing furtively at their children who were still engaged in their own conversations. "Somewhere away from prying ears and curious eyes."
His gut instinct screamed that if he tried to explain everything here and now, his beloved Empress would likely knock him out cold with a devastating tackle - as if he were some sort of sports champion hellbent on sacking his own husband - and Alaric’s imperial status would be no shield against such an assault! No, this was definitely a conversation best had behind closed door!
Carlton let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he returned to his meal. "Very well," he conceded, picking up his fork and knife once more. "We shall discuss this matter further before retiring for the evening." Alaric breathed an inward sigh of relief at Carlton’s acquiescence, grateful for the reprieve.
Cristyn, meanwhile, was doing her best to catch Carlton’s eye across the table, clearly itching to say something. But Helena, ever the perceptive older sister, quickly snatched a roll from the breadbasket and shoved it into Cristyn’s open mouth before she could utter a word.
"Mmphh! Mmmph!" Cristyn protested around her mouthful of bread, glaring daggers at Helena who simply smiled sweetly and continued eating as if nothing were amiss. She even enlisted Nikolai’s aid by silently gesturing for him to cover Cristina’s mouth should she also attempt to speak out of turn.
The triplets had an uncanny knack for blurting out precisely the wrong thing at precisely the worst moments. It was a constant struggle for their older siblings to keep the little ones in line and prevent them from inadvertently sparking World War III.
Helena sighed inwardly as she daintily wiped her lips with a napkin, reflecting on the challenges of being the eldest princess with so many younger siblings to manage. The weight of responsibility sat heavily upon her young shoulders at times like these.
As dinner concluded, Alaric excused himself to his study with Tristan in tow, eager to attend to some pressing matters of state. Meanwhile, Carlton had been enjoying a lively game with his children and also Kilian in Malcolm’s chamber; when he suddenly felt that all-too-familiar sensation gnawing at his insides once more. A dull ache blossomed in his abdomen, radiating outwards like tendrils of fire.
Carlton gritted his teeth against the pain, determined not to let it disrupt their family time. He’d always prided himself on his stoicism and ability to endure discomfort - but even he could only ignore this particular malady for so long before it demanded attention.
After nearly half an hour of valiant effort, Carlton finally conceded defeat with a heavy sigh. He bid the children goodnight and retired to his chamber, one hand pressed firmly against his stomach as he moved with deliberate slowness. It was clear that this ailment would not be so easily dismissed this time around.
Carlton, clutching his stomach and radiating a feverish heat, was about to make his way to Lucas’ place when fate, in the form of a particularly narrow palace corridor, intervened. There stood Lucas himself, just emerging from Rowan and Kastiel’s room with an almost mischievous glint in his eye.
The physician had just slipped a potent concoction into their shared chamber – something designed to ensure the couple’s performance that evening would be...memorable...
Carlton quickened his pace, relieved to have run into the palace physician so serendipitously.
"Lucas!" he called out, one hand still pressed firmly against his aching abdomen. "How fortuitous that we should meet here. I was just on my way to see you - I’m feeling quite unwell."
The royal physician turned to face him, a look of surprise flickering across his features before settling into one of professional concern. "Your Majesty," Lucas greeted with a bow. "What seems to be the trouble?"
"My stomach pains me terribly," Carlton grimaced, "and I feel an unnatural heat coursing through my veins - it’s most disconcerting." He paused for a moment before adding hopefully, "Might I trouble you for some medicine? Something to alleviate these symptoms?"
Lucas cocked his head slightly, studying Carlton with an odd expression. "Your Majesty Empress," he began slowly, "your medicine is Emperor..." His voice trailed off as realization suddenly dawned upon him. "Aha! Forgive me, Your Majesty," Lucas exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "You want medicine for Emperor Alaric, correct? I understand completely!"
Carlton blinked in confusion at the physician’s strange response. A moment of silence passed between them as Carlton struggled to process Lucas’ words.
I’m the one who’s ill and in need of medical attention! Why on earth would I be asking for medicine for Alaric?
He couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps he and Alaric ought to consider replacing Lucas with a more competent physician - one whose brain functioned a bit more reliably than the royal physician seemed to!
Lucas pressed a small vial into Carlton’s palm, giving it an enthusiastic thumbs up. "With this elixir, Emperor Alaric will be ready to go for days on end! You’d best hurry back to your chambers posthaste, Your Majesty - lingering here could land you in hot water!"
The physician bowed with a wink before sauntering off, his laughter echoing lewdly down the corridor. Carlton stared at the vial in his hand, brow furrowed in confusion as he tried to make sense of Lucas’ cryptic words.
Suddenly, realization dawned upon him like a ton of bricks. This ’medicine’ was no ordinary tonic - it was an aphrodisiac meant to stoke the flames of passion between himself and Alaric. The pain he felt now would only intensify until they consummated their union.
"No...no way," Carlton sputtered, face draining of color as panic set in. He clutched the vial tighter, torn between disgust and desperation.
With a sudden burst of energy fueled by panic and disbelief, Carlton took off running down the palace corridor. His heart pounded in his chest as he fled from the scene, desperate to escape the impending situation.
