Chapter 51: Chapter 51: Explanation
Tristan gingerly rubbed his bruised cheek, a fresh trickle of blood staining the handkerchief Alaric had given him. He glanced at Alaric and Carlton, trying to find the right words.
"So," Tristan began, his voice slightly muffled by the handkerchief pressed against his nose. "About Kastiel and Rowan...I know the situation with them seems...well, suspicious..." Tristan chooses his words carefully. "And I can see why Your Highness might suspect Duke Carlton’s involvement. It’s possible that what transpired was simply an unfortunate accident or unintentional negligence."
He paused for breath, then continued in a rush of explanation. "Two days ago," Tristan continued after dabbing at his nosebleed with a handkerchief, "the three of us were working late into the night to handle various royal matters and paperworks on your behalf – including covering for your ’illness’. We were extremely busy, especially considering the... unusual event that transpired the night before." He gave them both a weary look.
Alaric’s brow furrowed as he considered Tristan’s words. The mention of something significant happening three nights prior gave him pause, as it coincided with the first time he and Carlton had engaged in their illicit trysts. Could there be a connection? His mind raced with possibilities as Tristan continued his account.
"Anyway, since noon that day, Kastiel was complaining about a stomach ache. Said it felt like he’d swallowed fire and a whole damn banquet. He also mentioned feeling dizzy and his body temperature seemed elevated..."
Carlton’s own brows knitted together at this revelation. The symptoms described sounded eerily familiar to him... almost too familiar – they mirrored his own experiences.
Tristan carefully removed the handkerchief from his nose, a small sigh escaping his lips as he spoke in a clearer voice. "As evening deepened," he began, "Kastiel’s sweating intensified. It was as if he were enduring agonizing pain, yet stubbornly refused to see the royal physician, convinced it was merely a common fever. Then not long after," Tristan said with an air of formality, "His Majesty summoned Kastiel..."
He glanced at Alaric subtly, knowing that this detail would pique his interest. After all, Kastiel served as Alaric’s seneschal – and given Alaric’s supposed illness at the time (thanks to their little charade), it made perfect sense that the Emperor would call upon him directly.
"When Kastiel attempted to rise," Tristan explained further, "Rowan restrained him with words that clearly angered him greatly; they engaged in heated argument before ultimately reaching an impasse where Kastiel conceded defeat. So, I volunteered to take his place in meeting His Majesty." Tristan added with a slight bow towards Alaric. "After all, I too serve as Your Highness’s seneschal."
He met Alaric’s gaze directly, noticing the prince’s silence and prompting him with a gentle nudge. "Before departing," Tristan said softly, "I observed Kastiel’s face flushed crimson. He muttered about an unsettling sensation in his stomach and the inexplicable heat coursing through his body." He paused again for emphasis. "It was perhaps half an hour later after my meeting with His Majesty, that I returned to the room to resume my work with Kastiel," he explained calmly. "However, the room was empty, neither Kastiel nor Rowan were there.
"The guard informed me that Rowan had carried Kastiel back to his chamber."
Alaric grumbled under his breath after Tristan finished speaking. "It looks like Kastiel... isn’t experiencing the effects of an aphrodisiac if what he’s going through is dragging on for half a day..." He trailed off, then added with a suspicious squint, "...then why is he—"
Before Alaric could finish his sentence, Carlton clapped him hard on the shoulder. The force nearly sent Alaric reeling, but he maintained his composure – though maybe that was just because shock had rendered him speechless.
"Of course it’s not an aphrodisiac, darling," Carlton chirped condescendingly. He tapped Alaric again for emphasis. "You shouldn’t jump to conclusions before listening to Tristan! Tsk tsk... As future Emperor, you should be wiser than this my love."
A blush crept up Alaric’s cheeks – shame and guilt warring within him. He knew he was being rash; jumping to conclusions about Carlton without any real evidence was ridiculous. But... Alaric couldn’t shake the feeling that this man was somehow involved. Even if it was completely unintentional.
"I’m sorry..." Alaric sighed, meeting Carlton’s gaze with a serious expression. "I shouldn’t have accused you, even though... well, you are the most suspicious." He couldn’t help but add that last part under his breath.
Carlton’s lips twitched as if he wanted to retort, but Alaric plowed ahead before he could get a word in edgewise.
"This is very strange," he continued, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "There seems to be something more going on here with Kastiel... it feels like an aphrodisiac effect, but added with the stomach pain. Is it some new disease? Or did he accidentally eat something..."
Before Alaric could finish pondering this culinary mystery, Carlton interrupted with a smug grin plastered across his face. "Oh about that," he said confidently, leaning in conspiratorially. "I know exactly what Kastiel is going through." He puffed out his chest proudly before adding with an air of absolute certainty: "And I’m 100% sure about it."
Alaric narrowed his eyes at the infuriatingly confident Carlton. "You know...?" he drawled, suspicion lacing his voice.
Carlton grinned, leaning in conspiratorially. "Yup! But if you want to know what Kastiel is really going through..." He lowered his voice to a husky whisper and brought his face even closer to Alaric’s, "...you have to give me something."
Alaric’s serious expression instantly morphed into a bright crimson blush, turning him into a human stop sign. He hastily turned away, stammering out, "This is serious business! Don’t joke around about this!"
But Carlton was not one for subtlety – or taking no for an answer. He grabbed Alaric’s chin with surprising force and held it steady as he leaned in again. "I’m dead serious," he purred mischievously. "One kiss from you and I’ll spill all the juicy details about poor Kastiel."
Carlton closed his eyes and puckered up like a fish trying desperately (and failing) to make duck faces while simultaneously holding its breath underwater - or perhaps more accurately like an orangutan preparing for its first kiss-cam appearance at the zoo.
Alaric felt every nerve ending buzz with unease as their lips drew closer together. His heart hammered against his ribs like a frantic bird trapped in a cage. Should he give in? But what about his vow to himself – to stay away from Carlton and avoid any further romantic entanglements? They were best friends, brothers for life! Except... Alaric had already slept with him before.
Alaric’s brain went into overdrive. Thoughts spun around like a whirlwind in an apocalyptic storm – formulas from ancient texts on alchemy colliding with historical anecdotes about forbidden love and questionable practices.
But just as their lips seemed destined to meet again, Alaric snatched Carlton’s hand away and pressed a kiss onto its back instead. "You didn’t tell me where you wanted me to kiss you," he said smoothly, still holding onto Carlton’s hand with surprising strength despite the blush creeping up his neck now
"Well, well, looks like you have to tell me everything now because I’ve kissed you" Alaric declared triumphantly, flashing Carlton a grin that was rare as a solar eclipse. For nearly a week, Alaric had only given Carlton frustrated, stressed, and tired faces due to the ridiculous chaos he’d caused.
Carlton blinked open his eyes and promptly pouted like an offended hamster whose sunflower seed stash had been raided. Honestly? If some dainty little lady or fluffy-haired prince had pulled that face off, it might have been endearing. But seeing it on Carlton? A man built like a brick house who usually looked ready to bench press a small car? It was less "cute" and more potentially fatal to one’s heart (and possibly sanity).
Alaric’s triumphant smirk immediately evaporated as he took in the sight before him. He would have chosen getting punched by Carlton over seeing this deliberately cute display
Tristan sat perched on the seat as if observing some bizarre wildlife exhibit unfolding in front of him – two overgrown toddlers locked in a power struggle over who could pout the most convincingly. He glanced up at the afternoon sky, contemplating his options.
Perhaps I should start selling fried peanuts... There seems to be a constant demand for sustenance during these... passionate exchanges.
Tristan sighed internally. Being assistant to the crown prince was one thing, but acting as an unwitting audience to this level of public displays of affection? That was just cruel and unusual punishment for a single man.
Carlton heaved a dramatic sigh, his disappointment palpable. But after a moment’s pouty pause, he threw up his hands in surrender.
"Fine... next time I’ll make sure to give you an extremely detailed and thorough request," Carlton purred, dragging his tongue provocatively across his lips.
Alaric tried valiantly to maintain an air of nonchalance, but the crimson flush creeping up his ears betrayed him. He cleared his throat gruffly.
"There won’t be a next time! Especially not if you continue delaying giving me the explanation I demand!"
"Oh, very well then," Carlton drawled with exaggerated reluctance. He winked and stroked his flat stomach as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Kastiel’s symptoms are eerily similar to the side effects of consuming ’Wombata Childbearer Papaberry’ fruit... that’s what it does when it starts growing a womb inside your body."
Alaric had mentally prepared for several possible explanations, but this revelation utterly floored him - it was beyond anything he could have imagined!
Alaric fixed Carlton with an intense stare. "Carlton... are you absolutely certain? Because if that’s true... it means that Kastiel’s predicament is somehow connected to you!"
