There was a difference between
undernourishment and malnutrition. People could gobble all the treats in the
world and still be malnourished because they lacked the proper vitamins or
people could be undernourished, meaning without the necessary calories. Now,
Raul had to be considered as a victim of malnourishment. He had the status and
the blood, yet he was in need of the appropriate behaviour and mindset of a
King.
“You
must be dreaming again, Gigi,” Raul interrupted my thoughts with a nudge.
We were on a
small, wooden boat, fishing together. We would do this a few times during the
month. Paulette, on the other hand, would be watching us from afar, enjoying
her freshly baked cookies.
“I
was just thinking,” I answered with a murmur.
“Thinking
of?”
“Call
me insane—“
“You
are already insane,” he joked. Raul adored interrupting other people. Perhaps,
he liked outwitting others, but I sure did not.
“All right, so I
am insane for imagining you as King.”
“King?”
He looked at me in disbelief, almost tipping the boat too much to the other
side.
“Well,
remember what you said a while ago about Cael betraying you?”
“Yes?”
“I
was just worried that he would continue to hurt you and the only way—“
“Now,
you are insane, Gigi.” He sat back down, and was rowing the boat back to shore.
Hoping
to trigger his pride, I mustered, “How am I insane to believe in my own
brother?”
I
heard his light sigh, which only confirmed Cael’s predictions. Cael was still
adept at understanding his opponents. Sometimes, I wondered if his abilities
from past had allowed him to predict everything so well. He had been one of
them, and like Morganne and Nestor, he should have retained his power. What was
his power though?
“Even
if I would like to . . .” Raul waved back at Paulette, who was jumping up and
down to tell us that there was a new batch of gingersnaps on the table. His
lips only parted halfway. “There is something or rather . . . some people that
I would like to protect.”
I
blinked a couple of times before realizing what he had just exposed. “Raul . .
. is Paulette—“
He
gently bobbed his head. “The midwife has confirmed it and the astrologer
predicts that it might be a boy,” he uttered in a low voice. “Do keep this a
secret. You understand how chaotic the court would become.”
“I-I
understand,” I mouthed.
Once
we reached the shore, Paulette was stuffing her face with all the cookies. “You
two were too late!” she snorted with bits of crumbs sprinkled all over her
cheeks.
I
never knew Raul could be so gentle. I never knew that he could look at someone
with so much love. Over the course of these months, he had, indeed, matured. As
I watched him wipe the crumbs from her face, I felt a sense of admiration.
So, this was what love could do to
someone.
“You
have to be more careful.” Raul’s thumb smudged the corners of Paulette’s lips.
Paulette,
who was still too concerned with satisfying her undying appetite, mumbled with
her mouth full, “I know. I know.”
Once
he had finished his work, he realized that the plate had become empty. “Tell me
that you did not finish that batch—“
Licking
her lips, she winked. “I warned you two, but both of you were too busy fishing.
Fishing, fishing, fishing. So lacklustre!”
“Fish
is healthier than sweets,” he chirped. “The fish we would have caught would
have been gobbled by you in the end.”
She
ogled at him with her extremely large, lime eyes, which contrasted her cherry
face. “I-I-I—“
I
knew that Paulette had a way with crying. Her eyes were like waterfalls, always
splashing whenever there was some emotional trigger. Raul looked at me once,
and I quickly remarked, “But it is all in the name of good, isn’t it, Raul?” I
pointed to her abdomen and continued to explain, “He would need the extra food.
He has quite the appetite, doesn’t he, Raul?”
Raul
thanked me with a grin. “Indeed.”
He
now hung his arms around her neck and gently pressed his lips on her head while
she coyly snuggled her cheek on Raul’s chest with a grand smile.
This
had to have been the loveliest scene from a romantic film. He was in love with
her and she was in love with him. They had created a new soul with their love.
They were going to start a family together and it would have been the perfect
picture if it could have lasted.
Nothing
could escape Cael. No matter how hard I had tried to conceal Raul and
Paulette’s secret, Cael somehow discovered it. I should have told him instead
of facing his stoic look. He had intentionally instructed me to meet him at
Beau’s living quarters to discuss my findings. He had sought to test me, and I
had, unfortunately, failed.
“I
hear Paulette is bearing a son and that Raul is requesting to retreat to
Paulette’s spring cottage to nurse her body,” Cael declared rather bitterly. He
was found at a table in the kitchen and he was looking at me directly across
from the corridor.
“Is
that so?” I croaked.
Cael
shot me a vicious glare, questioning, “You really did not know?”
I
was afraid to look away from Cael. If I avoided eye contact, then he would know
that I had lied to him. Pretending to be strong, I shook my head. “Raul never
informed me.”
“I
understand. You may leave now.”
That
command could only mean one thing. Too shocked to move, I only managed to
mumble, “You . . . are planning to murder that child?”
“My
dear sister, you must understand that there will be no child in the first place,”
Cael adjusted my statement, “so, there will be no murder.”
I
clenched my fists and bravely marched towards him. “Raul has already admitted
that he has no intention of seizing the throne,” I tried to defend my actions.
“There is no need to sacrifice an unborn soul.”
“But,
there is no room for possibilities.” Cael disdainfully eyed me and poured
himself some wine. He held the goblet with his hands hovering over it before
taking the first sip. “Precedence, my dear sister.” He licked his lips clean.
“Still
a murder.” I took my seat in front of him. This was a confrontation with a
devil.
“No,”
he persisted to reason, “who says that this is a murder? It will, after all, be
a natural death.”
“How
will you do this?”
He
leaned his cheek on his palm while taking another sip of wine. “Are you not
here only to ruin my plans?” He even sighed, “And to think I treated you so
well.”
I
snatched the goblet that was situated in front of me and finished the liquid in
one gulp. “I already pledged my loyalty. I am not one to betray.”
“Yet,
I feel cheated.” He had the audacity to smile at me and even emptied all of the
wine from a glass bottle to the cup in my hand. He did not care if the liquid spewed
all over me. “I give and I give and people—“
Despite
the bitterness from the alcohol, I finished all that he had given to me in one
breath and grazed my lips with my knuckles. “I said,” I reaffirmed, feeling
rather lightheaded, “that I am not one to betray.”
“That
is no matter,” he answered in a monotonous tone. “In fact, the King has reconstructed
the Stairs of Exodus. Knowing that Paulette adores architecture, she would
surely appreciate this scene.” Again, that impish smirk surfaced and then, he snapped
his fingers once. “Beau, escort our sister home. She has consumed too much in a
day.”
Beau
had appeared from the shadows, presumably from his chamber, and then agreed
with a nod. He first covered his face with a porcelain mask before pulling my
arm. I had to follow him. Those were Cael’s orders and there was no purpose in
disobeying them. Once the two of us had reached the entrance to the Hallow
Forest, I asked, “Do you have the same opinion as Cael . . . to murder that
infant?”
Looking
at me with his tender eyes, he deepened his voice to a hushed murmur, “Yes.”
He
carried on walking, but I could not. My feet would not budge and my body tensed
to the point where I felt acid climbing through my veins to suffocate me.
Looking down at my boots, I realized what progress meant. The implications of
my proceeding were drastic. This act would be one that I could never forget or
even discard. Sure, I had murdered, not once, but twice. However, I had reasons
to murder. I had to kill then whether it was out of revenge or out of defence.
Now, I could only question Cael’s reasons. Was it necessary to slay an infant
who would not even have had a chance to defend him or herself?
“Chiyu—“
“You
do not deserve to call me informally,” I croaked. “How could you?”
I felt my face
wrinkle to form the severest glare. He rushed to my side, but halted just a
step before me. He did not dare to touch me. He understood me too well to know
not to do that.
“It is for the
better, better for the child never to be born than to be born with a pained
future,” he explained.
“How
are we to decide a child’s future?” I felt one of my eyebrows turn upwards and
my forehead crumple.
“I
do not like what will be accomplished, but . . .”
His
voice was waning and his eyes, although focused on the soil, were blank.
“But
we ought to do what we have to do to survive.”
I
finished his thought, but I could sense that cracked chalkiness, that clogged
vulnerability in my own voice. Then, my lips parted with my eyes half-closed. I
now understood what he had meant. I was still childish then, maybe even
idealistic. If I had been much older than my appearance had indicated, then how
old was he at that time?
this is a great read! update soon! so much dramaaaaa
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