Third Arc (Fallen Heart) - 254. Rage III
"Me?" Angel repeated, a wry smile creeping across his face. He couldn't help but find the accusation preposterous. He let out a soft chuckle, the sound dancing between ironic and amused, before it swelled into a full-blown, hearty laugh. "You accuse me for all the mess?" he stated, his laughter still bubbling beneath his words, like a wellspring of disbelief.
His amusement, however, was tinged with irony, and his smile slowly faded. "Right, of course," he said, his voice laced with sardonic amusement. "It was easy for you to accuse me," he continued, his words heavy with sarcasm. "After all, I'm always the family's black sheep."
King Gervis, who had been steeped in frustration and grief, fired back, not willing to back down. "Then who else? You're the only one with a motive here!" he accused, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife.
"Motive, huh?" Angel mused, his tone laden with a mix of amusement and bitterness. He leaned in slightly, his piercing gaze locking onto King Gervis. "You were so sure that I did it," he continued, his voice carrying an undertone of frustration and sadness, "but you have no proof," he stated with conviction.
King Gervis couldn't deny the truth in Angel's words. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but he found himself at an impasse. Turning to the doctor, he sought reassurance in this time of turmoil. "Are you sure Ilex died because he hung himself?" he inquired once more, the gravity of the situation hanging heavily in the air.
The doctor met the king's gaze with a solemn expression. He nodded with deference. "Yes, Your Majesty," he replied, his voice a steady anchor. His affirmation echoed the conclusion of their medical examination, leaving no room for further doubt.
"Are there any signs of poison on his body?" King Gervis inquired once more, his gaze now drifting towards Rose, the edges of his words laced with a touch of sarcasm that betrayed his lingering suspicions.
The doctor, whose duty it was to unveil the truth concealed beneath this cloak of uncertainty, gave a solemn shake of his head. "Nothing, Your Majesty," he stated firmly. His voice carried an air of objectivity, a commitment to the impartiality of his medical examination.
King Gervis turned to the soldiers with a keen look. "Did you guys find anything?" he pressed further, as if determined to uncover the hidden intricacies of this tragedy.
The chief replied with unwavering certainty, "Nothing, Your Majesty." Their collective search had yielded no clues, no tangible evidence that would point the accusing finger at anyone.
A hushed undercurrent of murmurs and whispers coursed through the gathering of guests. They were, after all, privy to the dramatic spectacle that was transpiring before their eyes.
The guests exchanged glances and discreetly voiced their opinions, their voices lowered in respect of the tense atmosphere. Many sympathized with King Gervis, understanding the depths of his grief and anger at the loss of his son. They attributed his clouded judgment to his overwhelming sorrow and his relentless pursuit of retribution.
However, there were those who subtly criticized their king's reaction. They questioned his hasty accusations and concluded that his tumultuous emotions had led him astray, blinding him to the nuances of the situation. They believed that his son, Ilex, was no innocent victim, having ruined his own father's birthday celebration with a shocking act of betrayal. The guests' whispers painted a vivid backdrop to the confrontation. Everyone, it seemed, held their own perspective on the unfolding tragedy, and they watched with bated breath.
King Gervis, realizing that his accusations were starting to crumble, began racking his brain, desperately searching for any shreds of evidence to support his claims. He turned to the doctor, his voice marked with frustration and anxiety. "Based on your examination," he inquired, "what time did Ilex exhale his last breath?"
The doctor answered, "After midnight, Your Majesty. Perhaps one or two hours after we finished treating him," he stated in a firm tone. There wasn't any doubt in it.
King Gervis turned his gaze back to Angel, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. "So, Angel," he probed, his tone edged with challenge, "what were you doing at that hour?"
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