Chapter 53: Chapter 53: That night
Tristan’s soul, which had taken a nosedive into the abyss of existential dread thanks to the utter madness unfolding before him, suddenly jolted back with the force of a thousand espresso shots. It was like someone had flicked a switch in his brain, replacing the swirling chaos with laser-focused memory: He’d completely forgotten about his conversation with the Emperor!
He slapped his forehead so hard it could have rivaled Carlton’s bear hugs for sheer impact. Was he blaming Carlton - a walking cuddle puddle with questionable sanity - for dragging them all into this whirlwind of absurdity? Or Alaric for willingly participating in said absurdity? Or maybe... himself? For forgetting everything after witnessing such bizarre events. Honestly, at this point he wasn’t even sure what planet they were on anymore.
He cleared his throat dramatically and bowed deeply towards Alaric. "Your Highness! I apologize profusely! I completely forgot to mention something crucial!" He straightened up with renewed purpose. "There was...a rather peculiar incident in the palace three nights ago."
Alaric’s eyebrows shot up as he leaned forward intently. Three days ago...the night he’d shared his first... intimate moment with Carlton. Coincidence? Or was there something more to this strange phenomenon? The possibilities were both terrifying and strangely intriguing.
The incident remained shrouded in secrecy, known only to a select few. Kastiel, ever the master of discretion, had swiftly silenced any whispers that dared to escape his lips. After all, what could be more unsettling than a glowing anomaly of unknown origin appearing within the palace walls?
Only the Emperor, his trusted advisors and a handful of vigilant guards were privy to this strange occurrence. A clandestine meeting was even held – one Alaric was curiously absent from. At the time, Kastiel had already spun a tale of Alaric suffering from a contagious illness as justification for keeping him away.
Tristan leaned forward eagerly, recounting the story with such fervor it seemed he’d witnessed it firsthand rather than gleaned it secondhand from Kastiel’s account:
"Your Highness," Tristan began with earnest politeness laced with excitement "Three nights ago...the royal guards on patrol reported seeing an extraordinary sight... A brilliant light flickered intermittently amidst the hedges of our palace garden maze."
"Kastiel told me," Tristan continued breathlessly as if reliving each detail, "that when he rushed to investigate, all he could discern was a dazzling electric spark that pulsed with an ethereal glow. The distance from the maze entrance to its center proved too great for them to make out anything more than these fleeting glimpses of light and what resembled lightning."
His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper as he added: "When the guards attempted to enter the maze for closer inspection, they encountered an impenetrable barrier. It was as if some unseen force prevented their passage."
A furrow etched itself between Alaric’s brows. He knew strange occurrences were par for the course in his life, but this tale surpassed even his wildest imaginings. Even Carlton, who had been clinging to him like a furry koala moments before, instinctively released his grip. Alaric remained focused on Tristan’s animated recounting, oblivious to the flicker of confusion and shock that crossed Carlton’s face – as if a forgotten memory had suddenly surfaced.
Tristan’s voice continued to weave its spell through the study room:
"But Kastiel and Rowan...they persevered," he said with an air of awe. "The guards claimed they could only manage a few steps before being pushed back by some unseen force, but Kastiel and Rowan...well, their determination was remarkable! They managed to venture much farther." Tristan paused for a moment.
"Kastiel himself described it as feeling an immense pressure against his body; one misstep would have sent him sprawling." He shook his head slowly. "It was utterly bizarre...like something defying all known laws of nature." His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "Almost as if...walking against a storm, but amplified a thousandfold."
Alaric crossed his arms, curiosity piqued. "Then? Did Rowan and Kastiel reach the source of that light at the heart of the maze?"
A wave of disappointment washed over Tristan’s features as he shook his head. "Unfortunately, your highness," he began, his voice laced with regret, "Kastiel said that after walking for some time, the force pushing against them gradually weakened. They realized then that whatever resided at the maze’s heart was...disappearing." He paused, letting the gravity of the situation sink in.
"They used their remaining energy to sprint towards it," Tristan continued softly. "But by the time they reached its supposed location...there was nothing there. Not even a glimmer of light beyond what filtered down from the moonlit sky."
He sighed wistfully, recalling Kastiel’s account with a pang of frustration. The thought of such an extraordinary phenomenon – something capable of emitting brilliant light, pulsing with an energy so potent it repelled all who dared approach – vanishing without a trace left him deeply unsatisfied.
Tristan continued, his tone regaining its usual measured politeness: "Naturally, both Kastiel and Rowan were deeply disheartened by this turn of events," he explained gently. "They immediately dispatched the royal guards to scour every inch of the central clearing for any trace - anything that might shed light on what they had encountered." He shrugged helplessly. "Despite hours spent searching meticulously...their efforts proved fruitless."
"Not a single object, not even the faintest mark, remained to suggest the nature of that enigmatic light," Tristan concluded with a slight frown. "It’s as if it had never been there at all." He paused, his gaze drifting towards the window as if searching for answers in the sunlight filtering through the glass.
"I confess, your highness," he added softly, "this mystery has left me quite perplexed. It seems we are left to wonder what forces might be at play within those hedge walls."
Alaric’s brow furrowed as Tristan spoke, the tale of the vanishing light weaving a tapestry of absurdity that tugged at his sanity. It was like something ripped straight from a fever dream, and Alaric knew exactly who to blame for such bizarre occurrences: Carlton.
Every time something utterly ridiculous happened, his mind inevitably conjured up that chaotic individual. But Instead of Carlton’s usual smug grin or mischievous glint in his eye, Alaric’s brain had decided to showcase him in a new light...a blue furry bear doing a rather impressive wheel pose...
Seriously, what kind of weirdness was this week bringing? His brain clearly needed an update on its image processing system.
"...."
Words failed him. This wasn’t just weird; it was downright ridiculous! He hadn’t even realized how deeply Carlton had burrowed into his subconscious until now, replacing himself with this... fluffy bear-hugging monstrosity contorting itself into poses defying both physics and human anatomy.
And then it hit Alaric – during Tristan’s entire explanation, he hadn’t felt Carlton’s usual suffocating embrace! Usually attached like an overzealous barnacle to Alaric’s side, Carlton had inexplicably loosened his grip on life...and probably on reality too.
Alaric’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. Why did Carlton’s face look so odd? Was there something he knew about this strange light? He wanted to ask, but Tristan continued speaking, oblivious to the internal turmoil brewing within Alaric.
"Your highness," Tristan said politely, "this situation is quite perplexing...which is why His Majesty wants you to investigate it once you recover from your ’illness’." He cleared his throat delicately. "That’s why he requested me bring other royal physicians besides Lucas...to ensure a thorough examination once you are well enough. And of course, to determine the source of this mysterious light." He paused expectantly.
"Your Highness," he added with a slight tilt of his head, "how much longer do you intend to feign illness?"
Alaric tore his gaze away from Carlton and mumbled a response to Tristan, his attention still half-lost in the fuzzy world of blue bear.
"Hmm... probably two days," he mused, "give or take. Kastiel and Rowan will likely be done with their... ...ahem... sexual activities after all that." He shuddered dramatically, picturing those two stumbling out of the room the next day after.. ahem. "I want to have a good chat with them before I declare myself cured."
Tristan nodded understandingly, trying desperately to maintain his stoic composure while battling an embarrassing blush.
"Very well then," Tristan said smoothly. "Lucas and I shall inform everyone when your highness is declared fit for duty." He added diplomatically, "Although His Majesty seems eager to get you back on your feet for this investigation...he also appears genuinely concerned about your health." A slight pause followed by an even smaller one: "Furthermore..." he continued delicately "...Her Majesty’s Empress is also unwell."
Alaric’s eyes widened in alarm. "Mother? Sick?" He scrambled for more information, his voice laced with genuine worry. "Is she still sick? How bad is it?"
A wave of panic washed over him. Just three days ago, his mother had been perfectly fine! Okay, maybe not perfectly fine...she’d fainted after a rather... peculiar conversation with someone...
"Her Majesty experienced some troubling symptoms three days ago," Tristan explained carefully, choosing his words with surgical precision as always. "She experienced a high fever and uttered several perplexing pronouncements about having numerous grandchildren...male empress...and macho man with uterus..." His voice trailed off into an uncomfortable silence before he added quietly: "...which has caused quite a stir amongst the royal physicians."
Alaric’s lips twitched involuntarily at Tristan’s understatement. He knew exactly what was going on here – Carlton’s absurd influence had struck again! And judging by his Mother’s ramblings about male empresses and uterus-havers, she’d been hit particularly hard. He couldn’t help but wonder if everyone who encountered Carlton was slowly losing their grip on reality or if the world had simply gone mad.
Alaric shot a frustrated glance at Carlton, the source of his mother’s current mental state. But, Carlton was lost in thought, pale as a ghost and sporting an expression that could curdle milk. It was unsettling to see him like this; usually, he was all boisterous energy and questionable actions. Today though? He seemed same but...off. Like someone had swapped his usual brand of chaos for existential dread served with a side of cucumber sandwiches.
"Carlton," Alaric said cautiously, "Are you alright? Is there something you want to tell us?"
At the sound of his voice, Carlton jumped like he’d been startled by a rogue squirrel wearing tap shoes. He turned to Alaric with wide eyes and stammered out something that sounded suspiciously like "uhhhh." Tristan, who had been watching this whole exchange unfold with growing concern and perhaps just a touch of amusement, suddenly sprang up from the couch as if struck by lightning – or maybe it was just remembering something important about three days ago...
"Your Highness!" Tristan exclaimed dramatically, waving his hands in the air like he’d just discovered the cure for the common cold. "I just remembered something! Something crucial!"
Alaric raised an eyebrow, intrigued. This was Tristan’s version of a dramatic reveal – usually involving misplaced teacups or forgotten borrowed books. But this time...it felt different.
"That night," Tristan continued, his voice hushed with importance, "the royal guards on patrol reported seeing Duke Carlton sprinting out of the hedge maze entrance about a minute before that strange light show with its flickering bolts of energy appeared in the center!" He paused, letting the information sink in like a lead weight into Alaric’s already-heavy heart. "They said he ran straight towards your wing!"
Alaric’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Carlton. So there it was – confirmation that Carlton had been poking around in the maze again, searching for clues as Alaric suspected.
But what happened before he emerged from those thorny confines? It seemed some kind of magical shenanigans had gone down shortly - probably related to time portal and other such oddities considering how abruptly (and rather forcefully) Carlton found himself in Alaric’s chamber three days ago...
Alaric didn’t anticipate Carlton’s sudden, vice-like grip on his wrist. It made him wince, a sharp jolt of pain shooting up his arm.
"Hey, let go," Alaric hissed, trying to pull away. "You..."
Carlton cut him off, fixing Alaric with an intense gaze that held a strange mix of confusion and turmoil within its depths. For the first time since their...encounter days ago, he spoke without using one of his usual endearments – no "darling," no "my love." Just a simple:
"Alaric..."
The name felt different coming from Carlton’s lips; stripped bare of its usual honeyed sweetness it carried an unexpected weight. A vulnerability that sent shivers down Alaric’s spine.
"That night... I didn’t run from the maze... I couldn’t move... I fainted...and... you were the one who carried me back..."
