Chapter 14 - An Unfortunate Event (1)

Duncan wanted Alexandro to marry, and it seemed that, in his desperation, he had bought off everyone around them to accomplish this.

I won’t be defeated this time, father.

He had no intention of giving in. Duncan had always expected so much of him, telling others that Alexandro was going to be the emperor someday. However, Alexandro did not want to have anything to do with the imperial palace, let alone rule the empire. Having observed what his father had done in order to gain power, Alexandro had no interest in getting married or having a family of his own.

They had made a deal: Alexandro, rather than remaining in the capital and ruling the empire, wished to join the order of knighthood and conquer the rest of the continent. While Duncan did not want to send his son to war, Alexandro was insistent and Duncan was reluctant to get his son dragged into the political power struggle that had been brewing in the capital at the time. He granted Alexandro’s request to leave.

While he campaigned the battlefields, Duncan solidified his own power, so that no one would dare to challenge his son upon his return. Alexandro worked tirelessly for the peace of the continent, fighting six major wars over ten years and playing the key role in absorbing five nations into the empire.

Knights and civilians altogether agreed that the continent couldn’t have been unified without the Archduke, and began calling him the war hero. Alexandro, convinced that he had done his duty, planned to return to his dukedom and live out a quiet life, intending to never set foot in the capital or the palace ever again.

A cool breeze ruffled his dark brown hair. His blue eyes gazed at his company, now approaching him from the distance.

“Your Grace! I cannot believe you jumped over that cliff just to win the race!”

One then butted, his words directed to the person who just talked, “And I can’t believe you couldn’t make that little leap.”

“Little! And it was my horse who feared the jump, not me.”

“What a stale excuse, my boy.”

Alexandro chuckled and turned his horse around, slowly retracing his steps.

“I only have one life, Your Grace. And please be more cautious—when you bounded over that cliff, I thought I would have a heart attack!” Evan continued, following Alexandro.

Alexandro scoffed at Evan’s hyperbole and, keeping his gaze forward, quipped, “If I am destined to die falling off a mountain, then perhaps I shouldn’t become the emperor.”

Evan gasped before saying, “Why are you so careless with yourself, sir?”

“If I were to die in a riding accident, would my father not agree with that sentiment?”

Evan could only stare at his lord’s back, unable to respond. Trees made a sound as they shook in the wind. It was only a little past noon, but it was dark in the dense forest. The Archduke’s horse, guided by his master, was going forward, forward, and into the blackness. Evan blankly watched the black stallion, whose beauty was in marvelous harmony with Alexandro’s robust physique.

Evan sometimes had a strange image in his mind—one in which the Archduke had disappeared without a trace, and everyone that knew him was in deep mourning. But in this scenario, Evan saw himself accepting the situation without any emotions, as if he had known that this was going to happen.

“That would never happen in real life,” he reiterated to himself. What a nonsensical daydream. He chased after the Archduke.

Having been at the Archduke’s side since his birth, Evan had spent more time with Alexandro than anyone else—even more than Aaron, Alexandro’s butler and Evan’s brother. Evan believed that he was the person who knew Alexandro the best. Even though the gossips praised him as the war hero and future emperor, Evan knew that Alexandro had absolutely no interest in power or status.

In fact, he wasn’t interested in anything.

Evan considered the Archduke ‘a man who had no attachment to life’. Having been at the top of the totem pole from the beginning, he had never lost anything. And he did not strive to gain something new, either. He appeared completely unaffected by greed.

But isn’t life all about losing things to win things?

The Archduke had never actually wanted any of the things he had. This man of broad shoulders was the loneliest man that Evan knew.

Evan awoke from his reverie and hastened his horse to catch up with the Archduke’s. Alexandro’s stallion, trotting slowly, was soon overtaken by Evan’s horse.

“It’s for real this time—you must grant me a wish if I win!”

Evan spurred his horse. To win the race, he had to make that jump over the cliff.

***

Am I in heaven? Aaron thought to himself as he closed his eyes. The warm water—just a little bit hotter than his body temperature—caressed his wet, silver hair.

Splash, splash—the water made a sensuous noise as he moved.

The fragrance stimulating the tip of his nose was different from the ones he had tried before. Soothing and sweet, it refreshed him, as if he was standing in the middle of a forest. Although not robust, the scent was enough to captivate his spirit.

He felt all his senses heightened—things that had previously been minute and unnoticeable to him were being amplified into strong sensations. The hot water and the cooling scent, especially, put him in an extraordinary mood.

Have I been transported to paradise?

A voice roused him from his thoughts.

“Pardon me, Lord Cupiheat. Are you feeling quite well?”

He did not wish to be disturbed. All his worries and troubles tightly filling his head had, one by one, disappeared into the water.

That serpentine Duncan, puppet emperor, useless Archduke, my only sister Anna, that crazy Lady Clara Bandorras…wench…

“Leave me alone.”

He yearned to relish this moment to the fullest. A certain feeling – something that he never had thought he could ever feel – came over him. He did not want to know what this sensation exactly was – he was afraid that the knowledge would make it go away.

Aaron emerged from the bath two hours later. His pale skin had turned reddish, and his fingertips had swollen and turned white from the long soak in water. Above all, Aaron’s normally vigilant face had become half-relaxed.

“Brother, are you all right?”

He remained silent, biting his lip as if thirsty.

“Brother, one must drink something cold and sweet after a scented bath.

“Is that part of the therapy?”

“No, but please try.”

Anna, with a determined face, offered him a drink—a persimmon tea that ladies tended to enjoy with dessert. Red and sugared, men usually shied away from it. Aaron received the cup from his sister. His masculine pride stopped him.

A girly bath with scented oil, and now this. He was about to refuse the tea and ask for a glass of cold water instead, when he gazed at Anna and observed, from his sister’s pretty eyes, some sort of mysterious resolve. Had the bath, which he had mistrusted, not given him an incredible experience?

He decided to trust his sister once again. The moment his lips touched the cold tea, he sensed a certain energy emanate from his heated body. The sweet fragrance and taste immediately enthralled him, and he gulped the drink straight down his throat. He felt the coolness travel down to his stomach, and having rapidly emptied the cup, he couldn’t help but shout, “Whoop!”

This is happiness, he admitted to himself. This bath was the most delightful physical experience he had ever had.