(Leo)
***
That dark haze from the Galaxy Meadow surrounded the castle that morning, too, as a day of mourning over the unsuccessful attempts to find the Sun Princess and Moon Advisor ensued.
Sticking bronze tassels in front of me, Jisoo tried to stop me from barging into the bedroom of the Moon Prince (or perhaps just the Prince at this point). She should have known better that she could not stop me from trying to go in there to comfort him.
Though, the two kings could definitely have halted me in my tracks. Their voices trickled out of the room, and I entered under a cloak of invisibility in case I needed to intervene (totally). I passed through the open door and perched myself on a bookshelf, hoping Inei and Hikaru refrained from using their magic long enough for me to see what was going on.
There wasn't much talking at first, simply somber silence slicing its way through the space. When I peered down, I was surprised to see the two parents embracing their son—Inei's own flesh and blood through surrogacy. I wondered if the Moon King somehow felt extra responsible for Akiyoshi due to that.
No… they were both his parents. They shared their pain equally no matter whose genes he carried…
Glancing at the scene, I could hardly believe the two fathers could stand being in a room with each other without being at each other's throats (as they had been for nearly a year now), but they somehow managed to shut their mouths and open their hearts briefly to comfort their son.
Akiyoshi sobbed between them as he had beside me last night, and I wanted to join the family hug. However, I recognized they needed their "private" time, so I stayed invisible, crossing my fingers that his parents would do and say things as I wished they would.
"Yoshi, we're so sorry," Hikaru said gently, side-hugging Akiyoshi's waist.
Hikaru practically bawled, but he tried his best to keep himself together. He seemed to be one who understood the greatest sadness did not always result in crying but instead hardened the soul to where that was impossible.
"We tried everything we could. You always did a great job helping when we needed you, even if there was little you could do."
Akiyoshi took this to heart based on the speaker.
"Thank… thank you… Father…" He couldn't help but sniffle and sob as he spoke.
Sometimes it was easy to forget how young he was with how well he handled any pressure.
That wasn't one of those times.
When I looked at him, I saw a little boy swaddled in blankets. I saw a little boy with black hair playing with whatever he could find in the castle. I saw a little boy who liked to read books all day and share them with his sister, who always yawned and instead grabbed exciting toys.
In fact, he also really liked to run around the courtyards with Koharu when he was a toddler. He liked studying the veins of the leaves and what made plants grow, while his sister just liked eating anything she could off the branches while listening—disregarding whether she was about to shove something poisonous into her mouth.
These images all flashed before my eyes, and my stomach wrenched to give me a distinctly icky feeling.
He didn't need the rest of his youth taken from him like that; he was already robbed of it as soon as his dad could put him to work.
As I contemplated the past, the two kings whispered comforting things in Akiyoshi's ears and rubbed his back and sides. Even the stingy Inei gave him a tight squeeze, making sure the boy was secure.
"I can be a bit of a hardass, but let it all out," Inei told his son awkwardly. "I won't ever be the one to tell you boys don't cry. We all just need to do our best to live on."
Sometimes, *sometimes*, Inei said something worth hearing. I was thankful it was right then.
Akiyoshi inhaled through his nose with a high-pitched sound and—taking his dad's reassurance as an invitation to do so—cried even more. He peered at the floor, so I was spared from seeing the messier details of his face. However, his arms were limp at his sides, and the only way his back was able to stay straight was by the strength of his fathers.
Rain dripped onto his pants, which were made of a cheaper material than his usual royal outfit. I rarely saw him out of it except in dire situations, and he seemed much more fragile in thin cotton and short sleeves that exposed his pale, lanky arms.
In a sentence, he looked about as put together as the afternoon traffic with five horses fighting in the middle of the street and three broken carts with wheels falling in the way of everyone else. (Which was to say: He appeared awful.)
I fought back tears as well, a feeling uncovering itself as it streamed through my body to make me weak. My thoughts were my only consolation, but they led me to wonder: Would Akiyoshi tell his parents about how he triggered the curse?
Ah, that would have been too soon. They would certainly beat him with a paddle for it and perhaps kick him out of the castle. (Maybe not, though, as they wouldn't have an heir otherwise.) Regardless, Akiyoshi needed his time to mourn, and I respected the fact it might take him time to confess to what he did.
Nonetheless, I was curious as to whether he would ever tell them or not…
I couldn't entertain the idea much as I heard another voice bellow from down the hallway.
"Your Highnesses, would you like me to shut this door for you? A certain fairy has been lurking around this place, and I would be surprised if you haven't encountered him yet," Jisoo asked, a solemn tone masking her usually disinterested voice.
Inei—the most put together of the three—nodded and mouthed words of gratitude.
As Jisoo reached for the knob, I flew down from my roost, knowing I wouldn't have another opportunity to escape for a while. Besides, there was something I wanted to discuss with her.
Quicker than she could shut the door, I slid around it, careful not to bump into anything. The magic only made me invisible—not incorporeal.
I followed her like a spectre as the doorknob latched itself with a click. The candles swirled around the air in some areas, and I did my best to avoid them as I crept behind the general. (I had no idea why Inei decided to install lavender candles that day except to perhaps soothe Akiyoshi, who loved the scent dearly.) She walked to one of the side offices on the lower floors. Just as she was about to enter, I turned opaque.
"Jisoo."
If she was startled, she didn't make it apparent. She turned in a sharp way that was characteristic of military personnel to face me. I *wondered* where they picked that up from.
"What do you need?"
"Is this your office?"
I pointed to the room. It contained a simple sofa, some shelves, a basic wooden desk with an assortment of decorations on it, and a soft chair beside a window.
"No," she deadpanned. "I'm just grabbing something so that I can move to my new office on the other side of the castle."
I rubbed my hands together and clasped them bashfully. "Ah, then I'll wait for you to get it."
She rolled her eyes. "I'm joking. Why do you think I'd be going into an empty room otherwise?"
"Well, *miss*." I tilted my head to mock her authority and attitude. "Inei's as fickle as a cat before scratching someone, so how was I supposed to know that? It didn't sound like you were joking."
"Sorry I took that out on you," she said as she shook her head and gestured for me to come inside. "I have a lot on my mind."
Flying in, I landed with the noise of air squishing out of the sofa. "Everyone knows about yesterday, but what else is the matter?"
She closed her eyes, inhaled, and paced to her chair, flicking the delicate velvet between her fingers.
"Just something with my girlfriend. We got into an argument about jobs and whatnot. She wants me to visit her more, but my parents also want me to stop by more often."
Without a sound, she lowered herself onto a seat. A heavy sigh permeated the air.
"I can't do that all without a break. I know my subordinates are more than willing to step in for a few days—they've told me that many times—but that would be a fucking mess to arrange."
I nodded. "Reasonable, though asking Inei right now would be like stepping into the crossfire."
She eyed me.
"Of course, only for someone who isn't professionally trained like you." Uncomfortably, I chuckled as I glanced at her.
Like a sly cat, she grinned.
"I agree. Now, what did you want to talk to me about?" She reverted to her stern manner.
Truth be told, I had hardly ever spoken to her in private. That must have been the equivalent for me of Ophelia chatting with Akiyoshi over tea that one time.
I averted my eyes shyly but only slightly as she glared at me, aware she was not as easygoing with strangers as most of the other castle staff. Under her gaze, I fidgeted in my seat, but I kept up a (somewhat) confident front.
"Do you have access to the castle records? I know they're in the basement, but the lock has always been magic-proof so that I can't tamper with them."
Jisoo had sat with poor posture, but she straightened her back once she heard my request. "Why do you need to go in there?"
"Why do I have to tell you?" I retorted, subconsciously angrier than I expected. "Just let me inside the records room."
"No. The lock is there for a reason."
My forehead became wrinkled as I then stared her down. "Jisoo, let me in there. It's for something important. I'm dead serious right now."
"I'm not allowed to."
She wasn't going to back down, though I acknowledged she was just fulfilling her duties.
Standing up and closing my fist, I held her in place from a short distance with my magic. "Then, tell me where the key is."
I didn't want to do that to her, but I had no other option if I wanted to make it to the next stage of the game.
Her facial features struggled, but her body wouldn't move.
"No."
"Fine, then." I threw my arms up. After the previous day, I was unreasonably irked. "I'll find it myself."
I flung the doors of all the drawers open at once, and their contents spilled onto the floor like a rack of drinks, pattering against the wood like raindrops. Only office supplies and pencils rolled out while I grunted in frustration.
"You aren't going to find them," she flatly told me, still trying to escape my grip. Her persistence was admirable—if not downright irritating. "Give it up."
"Shut up," I hissed, and I waved my arms to dump all the books off the shelf, metal bookmarks clanging as they hit the floor.
Seeing no key fly around, I lifted the cushion from the sofa, and only a few misplaced newspapers were stacked under it. I whisked them into a whirlwind until they crumpled and fell as lightly as feathers.
"Stop that! Clean this place up!" Jisoo commanded.
Her coolness and patience quickly faded, the general in her coming to the forefront.
"Where… the hell… *are they*?" Ignoring her, my voice grew rough and furious.
Why would Jisoo not listen to me? In that case, it made sense that she would pay the price for her blatant silence!
(I knew I overreacted, but I enjoyed the new role I tackled then as an excuse to ignore my own issues.)
Closing my fists erratically, I swung my arms as I wished. Something heavy slammed against the ground, and Jisoo's eyes widened.
"Stop this all! Now!"
I shook my head. "I don't think I'll listen to someone who doesn't have a damn idea what she's doing."
The fallen shelf caught my attention until I moved my eyes upward to a small slot in the wall, smiling. A thin chunk of metal dimly reflected light inside it.
"You're not the clever person you think you are, Jisoo." Overly pleased with myself, I reached for the key inside the cubby. "Bookshelves are all too common in this place."
"Put that down, and let me go!"
"How about…" I moved my eyes towards the ceiling in thought to be sarcastic. "I don't. I think it would be better if I left you here and came back to play with you later since you want to act like a child."
She shrieked, "Leo! Leo!"
When I made it to the doorframe, I held up my left hand, moving it horizontally. I drew a line of tape over her mouth so that she would quiet down since I didn't need any commotion to halt me; I had to seize this opening while I had it—before the queen and rooks cornered me.
My wings flapped a few times as I entered the hallway, and I zipped off to the hatch on the bottom floor to access the archives. As I did so, I recalled a conversation—just barely—that I had with Sinclair the night before about a nagging suspicion.