Signs of Blue

The prince spent most of his time hiding in his room for the whole day as he waited for his eyes to return to normal. His elbow to the windowsill supporting his chin as he watched the trees be swayed by the cold breeze brought by the graying clouds. Disregarding the hourly knocks of the attendants, Anton, and his other instructors, he chased them all of with the pretext of having a headache. Never entertained them nor had his lunch. Fortunately, the king seems to have been busy for the day at the new town square and could not interfere with his solitude.

"When will this dissipate for goodness sake," he wildly scuffled his hair. "I really want to bath in the rain, but I doubt anyone would be happy to see me like this," he sat back down to his bed and stared at his reflection with a long sigh, "Curse this curse."

It did not take long for the gray clouds to finally cover the great blue sky and gave out, watering the thirsty grass and tulips of the garden that's two stories under his window. It only made his heart melancholic as he longed for the cold rain. With nothing left but the stillness and static clash of the roof and the droplets, he slept all the way through the afternoon only to be woken up by a recurring nightmare. By the time he caught himself panting and grasping for air, his eyes have already turned back to normal.

"Nicolas, son, are you still unwell? You haven't had your lunch; do you want to have an early dinner?" the soothing voice of Natalia passing through his door calmed his nerves.

Reluctant to open the door, he waited for a good second for any changes with his eyes. Once he felt he was clear, he greeted his mother, "Good evening mother, I'm already feeling better, don't worry," brandishing a smile, it was a bit forced but he masked enough of his worries with the calculated angle of stretched. Something that he had perfected since long ago, thus he has confidence it will deceive even the keenest of eyes, or so he thought.

A mother's intuition is not something that can be easily deceived. As she reached for Nicolas's arms offering her escort, the minor stutter in his voice, the slight trembling of his eyes, she knew something was wrong. She had noticed it long before the prince could even create his perfect smile and it hits her like a sever sting every time Nicolas beams. It felt empty, it felt cold, rigid, and dry, something so fragile that's bound to break with one wrong touch.

"Are you really okay Nicolas?"

The prince halted and faced her, "Of course, mother. You have nothing to worry about, it's just a normal headache. It's been years since I've had panic attacks, I've mostly grew out of it," he laughed.

"A— are you sure?"

"Absolutely, so…," he offered his arm again, "Shall we?"

To his surprise, even though the whole table is decorated with different colors of golden brown, red, and green, the owner of the sole chair that had always judged him is nowhere to be found.

"Where's father?" he pulled the chair and offered it to the queen.

"Well, he did mention he's going somewhere aside from the square. Though where exactly, I have no idea."

"Shame, there's something I'd like to ask him."

Natalia stared at him for a good second, her brows stuck upwards, thinking this had been the first time his son had ever wanted to approach his father in his own accord. "And what could that be, maybe I can help too."

Nicolas finally settled in his chair, "Oh right, I guess you too would know about father's great grandparents, Emmanuel and Immanuel Gregory perhaps."

Natalia chuckled, already knowing that she'd be of no use. "On second thought, you should really directly ask your father. If it's about your grandfather I know a thing or two but pass that is outside my knowledge. Could you pass me that plate dear?"

"This one? With the bread?"

"Yes, thank you. But you know, almost everyone on your father's family side was named Immanuel. Your father was almost named by such but Queen Lydia at that time refused, the same way I did to give you your name."

Nicolas smiled, "Thank goodness then, but if you don't mind me asking, why did you protest?"

"Why you say…," she emptied her glass. "You cried every time your father proposed the name, even though you were only a day old by the time. Besides—"

"It's because she thought it'd be too restrictive and sounds old, even her father's name, Rodolfo, is not to your mother's liking," Frederick finally arrived still carrying the same book he had earlier this morning.

"To which I have a point," Natalia met him in his chair and when in for a kiss on the cheeks, "Besides, I only knew my parents by name and never actually met them, but that is the thing of the past. Welcome home dear, Nicolas has a question for you by the way."

She went back to her seat and Nicolas did not waste a second to follow up. "I was curious about the two princes from our lineage, father, do you know anything about them?" he asked politely, "Surely there won't be any problem if I asked with a kind tone," he thought, keeping his smile. But it seemed to have a different effect.

Frederick jolted from his seat, his tone deep and hesitant as he kept a firm hold to the black book. "W— why do you want to know," he avoided Nicolas's gaze.

"I'm interested in the both of them, since I don't have any siblings and it's even wilder to think about if I have a twin. If possible I would like to know more about them, but I'd like to know more about gramps Emmanuel, with the E."

Natalia was a bit embarrassed from what Nicolas said, she never thought that his son felt lonely having no sibling to grow up with, but to Frederick, it is the worst thing Nicolas could ask for.

The king turned pale, "I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT THEM," he unconsciously raised his voice.

"I just want to ask what made him leave—"

"Please Nicolas, I'm tired"

"But—"

"When I said I don't know, I DON'T KNOW," he sat down with a thud, leaving Nicolas disappointed and the whole room silent.

"Did something upset him again during his errand," Nicolas thought, finishing his plate that's already halfway done. Flickering a faint smile towards her mother who's sorry eyes tries to ease him up from a distance. "I understand. I would like to excuse myself, mother, father, I still need to fully recover from the headache so I'll be sleeping early."

With how things had turned out, his mind is more determined to find an answer. He could still hear his mother lecturing his father about his behavior but he paid it no mind. Although looking flustered and disheartened at his seat earlier, he was attentive enough to take note on how much the king guards the book, especially when he threw the question.

"Whatever hides inside that book would explain his denial. The journal I found is still in my possession, so the one he has was probably written by the other twin. It would be hard to take hold of it though, I might as well offer my head to the guillotine if I tried to take it," he halted at the stairs and sat. His arms crossed as he recalled anyone who might have any knowledge.

"Arthur might have known something, the problem is, he's no longer here. If only—"

Anton startled him from the back, taking him out of his thoughts, "Did you enjoy your headache."

"Who the hell enjoys a headache."

"You are, since you never had one in the first place," he scuffled his hair. The prince was only about to complain when Anton placed the nail into the coffin, "I've known you long enough to even consider you as a brother, I don't care if that sounded insolent but my point is, I know when you are plotting something or not, just like now."

The prince rested his case with a sigh and a smile.

"Spit it out kid, I heard my father's name. What's that about."

Nicolas debated in silence, weighing the pros and drawbacks 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 placed 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 only to himself to avoid being questioned.

By the time he is 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 sat 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 lose screws," Anton jokingly said which Nicolas did not find amusing.

"You do realize that I'm still of his blood right?" he 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 paid 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 we're too. After that, he would always be caught talking to himself and advice their parents about things that's too absurd even a novelist at the time found it ridiculous."

Anton kept babbling and blabbing, coughing everything he knows as he sip 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 is 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 depts of his stubbornness, Nicolas disregard the greetings of the attendants he came 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, mother nor father had never 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 fail, "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's 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 is carved into the souls of his people that they can now finally smile and it 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 too many emotions than he could comprehend. All he could do is 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 recognized him before pulling his hood down and kneeled, "I did, someone whose 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 get 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…"

"G— good evening your majesty," she stuttered, slowly distancing himself and her child from the prince as if he was 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's going on. Did he do something wrong? Were they really that surprise to see him or it's something totally different? that's what runs 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 another 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.