Far away from where Elestria clung to her mother's dead body, the guard who had escorted her into the room made his way toward the crown prince's wing. The air in the corridor seemed tense because of the recent unexpected death.
The Crown Prince Zephyr Blackwell was in his study room, engrossed in scrutinizing the parchment of the royal budget. His expression, normally strenuous, was even harder today, which revealed no emotions, and he was fully concentrated on the parchment he was going through.
As the guard, Paul, reached his study room, the two guards stationed outside stopped him. He informed them, "I have important news about the deceased lady," in an alarming tone.
Feeling the urgency of Paul, the other guard moved away, giving him a way to enter the study room. He stepped into the room, greeted by the dimly lit surroundings of the study. The only source of light was the flickering flame of a candle, which was placed on the Crown Prince's study desk.
The air in the room felt colder than outside. The scent of a burning candle filled the room. Paul felt chill creeping down his spine, with how serious the study room looked. It made his legs quiver in fear. Gathering enough strength he moved towards where butler stood.
Breaking the silence, Paul spoke to Buttler, who always stays with the crown prince. "The deceased Agatha's daughter is here." The word hung heavy in the air surrounding them, as if the room seemed to hold its breath.
The butler's face turned confused, and the revelation of Agatha having a daughter caught him off guard. He had done his research on her; he never knew she had a daughter, as she never cared to reveal it.
This revelation left him wondering if she had been hiding this part of her life all along. But the question was, why?
With a dismissive wave, the butler signaled Paul to leave.
Walking to where the crown prince was sitting, he bowed respectfully while giving him a glass of red color liquid.
A dim candle falls on Zephyr Balckwell. The crown prince sits regally in his bright red shirt, paired with a black trench coat topped with high-neck collars that cascade down his knees. His pair of black pants made him look serious.
Leaning back in his chair, Zephyr's left arm rested casually on the left side of the chair, while the right hand held the glass of red liquor.
Tilting his head to his left, he spoke with a deep, authoritative voice, "Walter, have the deceased's family members arrived ?". His words echoed through the room.
Walter Orville, the butler, was wearing a white shirt with a coat and a pair of trousers. He bowed his head and responded, "Yes, young master Zephyr, but the problem is..." His words trailed off, interrupted by the sudden, piercing scream of a girl that echoed through the corridor.
Unfazed by the scream, Zephyr remained composed, as if he heard nothing. His finger tapped rhythmically on the chair handle while waiting for Walter to complete his sentence, "And... what's the problem?" He asked, breaking the silence.
The butler hesitated before completing his sentence: "She claims to be her daughter, but Agatha never talked about having a child." His face turned into concern at the voice he heard a while ago.
Zephyr's red eyes, like Strom clouds, pierced through the dimly lit room after the revelation. His eyes landed squarely on Butler, whose body stiffened under his intense gaze. "Interesting.." Zephyr mused, his tone betraying a hint of amusement. "Seems you weren't good enough to find out about her daughter, Walter? Gotta do a little research here, hmm?" The air thickened with tension as the words slipped through Zephyr's lips.
Walter, who tirelessly researched Agatha Sinclair after her death, just to find out the reason for her suicide, wasn't able to track down her family members. That's why the crown prince had asked his informers to announce Agatha, the former assistant librarian of the royal palace's, death in the town, to see if someone reached out to see her.
Walter's gaze dropped to the ground, and he bowed respectfully. His words faltered as he struggled to say anything. "Forgive me, younger master Zephyr." Before he can finish his sentence, an overbearing pressure washed over him.
Zephyr with a swift, forceful motion, placed the glass he had been holding onto the table with such impact that it reverberated throughout the room. The sudden noise in the silence, startled everyone present there.
"forgive you?" Princes hummed
Rising from his chair, he continued "you know what to do" expression giving away nothing.
"Bring the parchment to my room, and when that girl, once she is in her right state, brings her to me in the morning," and with that, Zephyr strode towards his chamber.