Chapter 55: Chapter 55: Cousin
The popularity of the fanfic was a head-scratcher, to say the least. It was like someone threw all the characters into a blender with a handful of random plot points and hit "puree".
OOC? Check.
Nonsensical plot twists? Double check.
Exotic creatures straight out of fever dreams? You bet your bottom dollar!
Some folks swore it was brilliant writing; others claimed its smut scenes were hotter than dragonfire. But most agreed: the sheer weirdness of it all was what kept readers coming back for more. Like moths drawn to a flickering flame made entirely of existential dread and questionable life choices.
For those reading it? Hilarious comedy gold. But for Carlton, who had to live through these nonsensical events? A constant state of existential dread disguised as an action-thriller (with extra points for animal cruelty).
Carlton’s mind still reeling from the revelation about exotic creatures populating this kingdom – creatures he’d never even heard whispered about in ancient scrolls or dusty libraries. His brain felt like it needed defibrillating after processing that information alone...
Finally shaking off his mental fog, Carlton decided to confront the source of this bizarre whispering. He marched over to where the seven children were huddled, arms crossed and a thunderous cough erupting from his chest like a miniature volcano.
"Ahem...!!!"
The sound was so unexpected that all seven kids jumped back in unison, their whispers dissolving into startled gasps as if they’d been caught red-handed stealing cookies from the royal pantry. Their original mission – silent observation – had gone out the window faster than a runaway chariot pulled by caffeinated squirrels!
"Daddy!!!"
The simultaneous shriek echoed through the forest, bouncing off ancient trees and startling a nearby flock of brightly colored parrots. Carlton sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly at their lack of stealth. He couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment; these kids were supposed to be spies now! Apparently, ’high awareness’ wasn’t part of their curriculum yet. And maybe they needed some vocal lessons – those voices could rival a banshee on payday!
Carlton had completely forgotten he was dealing with children ranging from two to ten years old... or perhaps it was just that his brain still hadn’t fully recovered from the shock of discovering an entire ecosystem dedicated solely to bizarre creatures straight out of nightmares.
Nikolai, despite his guilt at being caught red-handed, marched towards Carlton with the unwavering determination only a five-year-old could muster. He grabbed onto Carlton’s hand with both chubby fists like he was clinging to life raft in a stormy sea.
"Daddy," he said solemnly, "We followed you because we’re worried about Daddy and our baby sibling."
Cristina, who had been sobbing hysterically moments before – convinced Carlton was some kind of animal exterminator based on her older siblings’ exaggerated tales – now looked a little calmer. Her short legs tried to tiptoe closer, reaching out with hesitant fingers towards Carlton’s stomach.
"Daddy," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly, "is the baby in your tummy okay? We’re not as heavy as rhinos or bears... so this baby should still be healthy..."
Cristyn, feeling the heaviest weight of guilt for thinking she might have accidentally killed their baby sibling, climbed up Carlton’s leg like it was an impromptu jungle gym. Reaching his belly with surprising agility for someone wearing such frilly pink dress, she patted it reassuringly.
"Baby sibling is strong!" She declared confidently. "Father said that giant anaconda once wrapped around daddy’s body but oldest brother in his tummy is fine! Even now grow healthy and smart!"
Giant snake wrapped around the body?! Not only did other Carlton not miscarry but his body is fine?! But he miscarried when he was hit by a woman who was only half his weight?!
Carlton felt like his brain had entered some bizarre alternate reality where logic took a permanent vacation. His eyebrows knitted together in bewilderment as he processed his toddler’s confident declaration about snake-wrestling pregnancies. There was supposed to be a certain trajectory to fatherhood - maybe discussing the birds and bees someday, perhaps awkwardly explaining where babies come from... but not THIS. Never did he imagine having to discuss his own male pregnancy with a two-year-old who seemed disturbingly well-versed in exotic animal combat.
Most men might discuss their wives’ pregnancies with their children. Not Carlton. Oh no. He got the special privilege of discussing his OWN pregnancies - complete with detailed survival stories about how other Carlton, harbored an insatiable desire to hunt exotic beasts every time he got pregnant – and miraculously, all those babies turned out perfectly healthy!
It was enough to make anyone question their sanity... or at least need a lifetime supply of therapy. Luckily for Carlton, mental fortitude seemed to be one of his superpowers in this crazy new world.
"Listen carefully kids..." he began, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. "Everything you hear is... exaggerated... It’s all... not exactly like that..."
He tried to weave a web of normalcy around this utter absurdity, even though the one living through it all was him – Carlton from another dimension! At least he could try to make sense of it for these little ones. Maybe pretending everything was normal would help him cope with this bizarre reality. Even if only for a fleeting moment...
Malcolm and Helena exchanged a knowing glance, their faces mirroring each other’s pride. Helena’s expression was serious, her eyes shining with admiration for Carlton’s legendary past as an animal slayer.
"Daddy," Helena piped up, "that’s not true! I know you don’t remember any of it, but it really happened! Even though I was only two years old at the time, I saw Daddy with your big belly - carrying two dead bears!"
Malcolm nodded vigorously in agreement. "I was only three," he chimed in, "but I still remember at the hunting competition Daddy – pregnant with Austin – carried the bodies of eight wolves and three lions!"
Carlton winced internally. This absurdity had officially reached new heights – or should we say depths? His mouth twitched involuntarily as he realized his attempts to downplay this bizarre reality were backfiring spectacularly – like trying to put out a forest fire with a teacup full of water. He might actually need therapy after all... or maybe some strong sedatives? He decided right then and there, he was throwing in the towel.
He threw up his hands in defeat. "Alright, alright," he mumbled, surrendering to the chaos. "Maybe I did have a bit of an adventurous past."
The absurdity was winning – and frankly, Carlton didn’t have the energy to fight it anymore. He needed a stiff drink... or maybe ten.
"Uncle Empress is amazing..."
A tiny voice cut through the air like a ray of sunshine breaking through storm clouds, coming from behind Malcolm’s back – a voice so unexpected it startled Carlton back into reality. It was Kilian, peeking out shyly from behind Malcolm’s figure like a curious kitten emerging from its hiding place. It was the same look Kastiel used to give Alaric - a mixture of awe and... something else that Carlton couldn’t quite place.
If only Carlton knew that Kastiel’s view of Alaric was that of a devoted fanboy - the kind who would collect limited edition trading cards and sleep in merchandise pajamas if such things existed in this era. Carlton’s stoic face might have cracked into genuine amusement. And the truly hilarious part? Little Kilian had inherited the same fanboy gene from his father from other world, radiating pure hero-worship energy despite being barely six-and-a-half years old.
"Huh? Kilian? Did you come to the palace with your two fathers again?" Carlton asked, desperately trying to ignore the almost visible sparkles emanating from Kilian’s adoring gaze. Those eyes tracked his every movement like a hawk watching its prey – if hawks were adorable and slightly obsessive.
Carlton’s mind wandered to the logistics of the situation. A sudden curiosity bubbled up within him—why was it always Kilian tagging along with Rowan and Kastiel? What about their other children? Did they draw straws to decide who got palace visitation rights this week?
Before Carlton could voice these questions, Malcolm piped up with the explanation.
"Daddy, Kilian is staying at the palace for three days..." Malcolm explained matter-of-factly, as if discussing the weather instead of extended childcare arrangements. "Because Uncle Rowan and Uncle Kastiel are still not out of the room. Uncle Kastiel is still sick..."
Austin, not to be outdone by his older brother, inserted himself into the conversation. He patted Kilian’s head with the condescending benevolence of someone bestowing wisdom upon the masses, despite being only a few months Kilian’s senior—a veritable dinosaur in toddler years.
"Even though Daddy is also sick with the same disease as Uncle Kastiel... even caught it on the same day..." Austin continued, his voice rising with excitement, "but Daddy recovered first! Although Uncle Kastiel got sick hours before Daddy did!" Austin’s eyes gleamed with pride as he gazed adoringly at Carlton. "Daddy, you are so amazing..."
Austin’s admiration struck Carlton not as a compliment but as an unwitting insult wrapped in childish innocence. The so-called "disease" they referred to so casually was apparently some mysterious aphrodisiac effect that had transformed him into a desperate, lust-crazed version of himself for three straight days! Three days of activities that made his face burn just thinking about them.
Wait a minute... if he and Alaric had finally emerged from their marathon bedroom session, but Kastiel and Rowan were still... occupied... did that mean they were STILL going at it?! Carlton’s mind reeled at the implications. Were they superhuman? Did they have some kind of tantric secret? Or were they simply being carried out on stretchers at this very moment?
His body ached in places he didn’t know could ache. His waist felt like it had been through a medieval torture device, and as for his posterior region—well, sitting comfortably was a distant memory at this point. Thank heavens Alaric had been thorough with aftercare, otherwise he might not be standing here having this bizarre conversation with children about their fathers’ sexual stamina.
A more pressing concern suddenly seized his thoughts. If Rowan had been... indisposed... for three days straight, who was handling affairs in the Dutch territories? The kingdom couldn’t just run itself!
"If Rowan suddenly disappears for these three days," Carlton muttered, brow furrowed with genuine concern, "then who takes care of the Dutch? Is there anyone trustworthy besides him?"
Malcolm’s expression shifted to one of mild surprise, though he quickly remembered his father’s supposed amnesia. "Daddy, did you forget your cousin, Uncle Johan?" he explained with the patience of a tiny professor. "After you became Empress, he replaced you temporarily until Austin was old enough..."
His serene expression shatters like glass, replaced by a thunderous fury that transforms his entire being. The temperature around him seems to drop several degrees as a cold, menacing aura radiates from his body. His eyes narrow to dangerous slits, pupils contracting to pinpoints of rage while the veins at his temples throb visibly.
"My cousin JOHAN? Taking care of DUTCH affairs?"
The words escape through clenched teeth, each syllable dripping with venom and disbelief. His fingers curl into white-knuckled fists at his sides as he struggles to contain the volcanic eruption of outrage threatening to explode.
"Do we all want to tear the Dutch apart and let that SNAKE rule?!"
The children collectively flinch backward as if physically struck by his words—all except Kilian, whose admiration only intensifies, eyes widening with starstruck wonder at witnessing such magnificent imperial wrath firsthand. The others cower together, their small bodies trembling like autumn leaves in a gale.
Carlton’s voice drops to a bone-chilling whisper that somehow carries more threat than any shout could manage.
"Where is your father emperor now? I want to talk to him!"
