『There was once a boy who had a father, mother, and younger sister. They were twins, born under the shining moon on the sixteenth of August.
Having golden hair resembling his father's, eyes shimmering like rubellites whenever he smiled. Pinky promis...
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"I... I don't remember."
Eclair's grip tightens on the teacup, halting in bringing it to her red lip. Her golden eyes shake in disbelief, feeling something stir in her heart.
"I'm sorry, Cel," Arius voiced out his apology. His mood dampened when Eclair remained unresponsive. "I didn't... I didn't want to forget what happened."
A sigh came from the burgundy-haired girl. She settles her teacup down without drinking it, a clank resounding in their bedroom.
"Don't be disheartened," Eclair begins, overlapping her hands on her lap, "It's not your fault you forgot your sister's execution."
Arius frowns even further. He laid on his king-sized bed, hiding his face in his pillow. "But... I wasn't supposed to. I... It's scary. I don't remember most things now," he grumbles, words a bit muffled.
Eclair looked over at Arius from her seat, feeling somewhat disturbed. She had begun suspecting something was wrong with how major events in the young Emperor's life became blurry.
For example—his sister's execution. Eclair was there in the crowd with, an obviously hidden, Arius as they could only watch Athanasia De Alger Obelia get hanged.
Such an event was hard to forget. Even if you dabble into the ebony trickery called black magic, it'll take a decade to completely rid the human mind of the poisonous memories.
Her suspicion begun when at one Noble meeting, her husband stated—"Who was the one that was titled as the Tyrant again?"
Anastacius, the man Arius beheaded using his own hands, was someone not easy to overlook. This began her interrogation—sometimes her husband was aware, other times, not so much.
Eclair had one perpetrator in mind. But with no concrete evidence—words could be enough—it would be hard to confront.
But this—dear her, but Eclair was ready to impale someone with her sword. She would drag Jennette as well since she knew how important the brunette was to the perpetrator.
It took all of Eclair's restrain to not just march her way to the perpetrator and slice them in half. She could, no one would stop her—the Empress of Obelia, but there would be consequences with the perpetrator's identity.
'Eclair, calm down,' she told herself, nearly cracking the teacup. The drink was now cold, motioning for a servant to take it away. 'Clear your mind, Eclair. Arius would be disappointed if you lose yourself.'
Arius glanced when Eclair stood up, her heels clacking. The emerald green dress trails behind her, silver linings glistening under the chandelier.
Eclair turns to his husband resting on their bed, a rare and gentle smile on her lips. "Arius, I'll be meeting Lisette right now, so I'll be gone for half an hour," she tells him.
