"Spit it out, kid. I heard my father's name. What's that about?"
Nicolas debated in silence, weighing the pros and cons he might incur by seeking help from Anton. "What guarantees that you won't tell this to my father?"
"My loyalty is all yours, your majesty," he playfully said, placing his right hand to his chest and kneeled down.
"Reeaaalllyyy," Nicolas judged him with his brows.
"What, why are you looking at me like that. I already told you—"
"Fine, since I have no other choice," they settled in Anton's room, since it's conveniently at the third floor where they were. Carefully and surely, Nicolas fed his butler with the necessary information. Treading a thin sheet of ice, he made sure to keep the gravest information to himself to avoid being questioned.
By the time he was finished, Anton too had made some tea, "What makes you think I know who they are?"
A long, unamused sigh accompanied the serious eyes of the prince, "Forget it; I'll just ask the scholars at the library tomorrow," he declared before he stood up and headed for the door.
"KIDDING, I'm just kidding. Wilver's had always been a loyal retainer of the royal family. I don't mean to brag, but since we have no nobles in this kingdom, we are the closest thing to it," he said smugly, "So, naturally, we needed to learn— ahem— in my case, father forced me to."
"I never thought Arthur would be that kind of person."
"He had always been lax around you two; that's why Mrs. Valorona was left to discipline you and Alisa. As for me, he raised me in hell," Anton's face turned bitter just by remembering how Arthur burned every martial art and weapon technique there is to learn to his being.
Nicolas could not contain his laughter, "I guess we are quite similar in that aspect," he said, sitting back down.
"Let's see, the twin princes. The Manuels, then, was it the E or the I?"
"E, the one who left."
"Ah, I see, the one with the lost screws," Anton jokingly said, which Nicolas did not find amusing.
"You do realize that I'm still of his blood, right?" he said, coldly followed his laughter.
The butler's smile slowly toned down, "Would you like some tea, your majesty?"
"Nope, continue. Why was he called that exactly?"
"To be honest, I did not really pay much attention before, but if my memory serves me right, he started acting differently after he got struck by lightning during their 14th birthday by saving the other twin."
"I'm surprised he even survived."
"They're too. After that, he would always be caught talking to himself and giving advice their parents about things that were too absurd; even a novelist at the time found it ridiculous."
Anton kept babbling and blabbing, coughing everything he knew as he sipped his cup of tea, refilling it as he felt proud that his apprentice actually asked him for help. He was trapped in his own delusion that he did not notice Nicolas straying into his own deep world halfway through and decided to connect the dots on his own. By the time he dried up the whole pot, the seat he provided was already vacant, his door was left open and no signs of the prince is nowhere to be found.
"What's that kid up to again?" he sighed, peeking out the window only to see Nicolas descend the stairs back to the floor of the throne. "Don't DO ANYTHING STUPID," he tried yelling but the boy never heard him.
With his train of thought following the tracks into the depths of his stubbornness, Nicolas disregard the greetings of the attendants he comes across. Continuing to the throne room, then straight to the king's office. Barging in without a knock, he declared his aim.
"I would like to visit Alisa and Arthur's commemorative grave."
Frederick almost jumped out of his chair as he quickly closed the book, "DON'T YOU HAVE ANY MANNERS," It took him a minute to recover from the scare, "I already told you; you can't go outside without a good reason."
The statement got down Nicolas's throat like ingesting a fishbone, clutching itself in his esophagus, refusing to let go no matter his effort to shake it. "Are you saying that paying my respects to my deceased friends is not important?" he glared at him for a good second before bowing his head and excusing himself. "Understood, I'd just pay my respects another way. Well then, thank you for your time, your majesty."
Frederick, who was left in the room, was still frozen. With his hands trembling, he opened the book once again to the page he never finished reading.
Emmanuel had been acting strangely since the incident. For some reason, my twin who had always been reserved and composed, turned into a happy-go-lucky guy; it's as if he's not him at all. Aside from his behavior, I don't know if it's just me, but his eyes flickers blue when he gets upset. Just today, I witnessed it when I accidentally broke his bow. That said, neither my mother nor father had ever seen it before. Anyway, I found a puppy.
Reading it over and over again, it made his distress even worse. Seeing the same changes happening to his son and what he experienced firsthand during the incident only made the further claims in the latter pages gain more weight.
"He can't be," Frederick tried to fight the thought but miserably failed, "Of all the things that could be, why would our family be plagued by demons."
The prince, who's unaware of what happened, followed his desire. If his father see's Alisa and the others as unimportant, then his words are of equal equivalence for him. He felt a little shame on using them as an excuse but he's not lying when he said he wanted to go, Although he managed to sneak out during the memorial before, being there face-to-face with not a lot of people is a different kind of thing.
With the spare time he had till the evening deepens, he found another passage connecting the hidden room to the outside. It led him outside the west wall, covered in glowing moss and well hidden among the natural boulders. Figuring that it might have been the same escape his great-great grandfather used to leave, it is only fitting and more secure to do the same. He had always dreamt of scaling the walls before, so he had long memorized the habits of the knights guarding the castle. The time they are most active, when they loses focus, and even the time they switches shifts.
Standing underneath the door, separating himself from the outside, he raised the hood of his cloak. After taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, he gently lifted the opening. Surprisingly, he had no trouble doing so. With the gentle glow of blue radiating from it, he could only conclude that it was another one of Emmanuel's tricks. Peeking through an inch of a gap, he scanned the surroundings. With no guards as he expected, he quickly crawled out and immediately threw his belongings to the other side of the moat.
Without hesitation, he quickly jumped on the water and swam to the other side, It's freezing hug was no match for the excitement he's experiencing. Despite being soaked from head to toe, he continued running until the glowing moss could no longer reveal his silhouette.
When he reached the town, it looked way livelier that he thought it would be. It seems resilience and adaptation are carved into the souls of his people, and they can now finally smile, which made his trip worthwhile. Seeing the monument face-to-face, he can't help but project a smile to himself. Standing in front of it woke him up to more emotions than he could comprehend. All he could do was stand there silently as he conversed with them through his mind.
"Are you praying, mister?" a boy pulled the side of his cloak, "Did you lose someone here too?" his inquisitive, gentle gaze glued him back to do the same.
Nicolas checked the vicinity for anyone that might recognize him before pulling his hood down and kneeled, "I did, someone who is very important to me."
The boy handed him a white tulip that made him reluctant to take. "Here, you can have this, mister. I have always visited every day already; I don't mind giving it to you."
"T— thank you. You're so kind; may I know your name?" he accepted the offer and gently placed it onto the monument.
"I'm Lucas, my mother named me after my father. He was a knight before, someday I would want to be like him," he smiled brightly, proud, and genuine.
In contrast, it served as a strong blow to Nicolas's conscience. The prince fell silent as the boy continued his story, about all the things he had heard from his mother, things about his father that the boy never got to see and feel for himself. Clenching his fist as he felt a sudden constriction in his chest, he could not help but hug the boy.
Unable to cry as he had always been, he could only offer his embrace to the boy: "Forgive me, Lucas."
Lucas was caught in a daze, but the hug is not the thing he's concerned about, "Um, mister, you're soaked— and why are you apologizing?" he asked when a lady pulled and freed him from Nicolas's grasp. "Mom…"
"Good evening, your majesty," she stuttered, slowly distancing himself and her child from the prince as if he were a vile creature. Panic is painted on her face, white and pale.
It was already too late when Nicolas recovered from the shock. The town folks are already watching him from all sides, maintaining the same expression and distance like the lady and Lucas. He did not understand what was going on. Did he do something wrong? Were they really that surprised to see him or is it something totally different? that's what ran through his mind as he ran.
From what he can remember from years ago, they accepted him with applause and cheers, yet at that moment, their gaze speaks more of hate, to the extent that they might burn him at the stake. Seeking refuge in a willow tree at the edge of the town, the journal forced itself outside his bag before opening a page.
"The storm will always dissipate, but the destruction it caused will always be engraved to those who suffered."
Nicolas could only laugh at this other trick. "Such an elaborate way to say that I did something wrong. If you know that well, why don't you help me remember the things I forgot."
Answering him with an even brighter glow, it showed a map. A bit old and outdated, yet still recognizable from the current atlas of Gregoria.