The Magnitude of One's Heart

Chapter 4

          Fortuna was, to say the least, definitely not in his favor the coming morning.

     As he accompanied the king's side for his usual duties, Affogato found out that he wasn't to guide the scholar again for the rest of his visit, which came as a shock since he was initially told to accompany Eclair throughout his stay. This was a last-minute decision made by Dark Cacao himself, seeing as having a royal advisor gone for too long would not be ideal for him. Instead, Eclair was to be guided by a different person in each region further beyond the Citadel. Today, he planned on visiting several of the watchtowers surrounding the kingdom, meaning...

     "That damned First Watcher!" Affogato gritted under his teeth once excused, sliding the door to his quarters with a loud thud.

     As it turns out, Caramel Arrow would be in charge of helping Eclair for the day.

     Of all people, why her?!

     Not only can Affogato not relay secret information of the kingdom's tension towards the historian anymore, but now Caramel Arrow could tell the other of her suspicions of the advisor, causing Eclair to distrust him and hurt the advisor in more ways than one. What made things worse was the fact that he still didn't know how he specifically felt towards Eclair. It wasn't anything malicious, surprisingly, yet he couldn't wrap his head around what it could be. Although sometimes these emotions came and went, he still had a fairly positive impression of Eclair. Affogato thought that interacting with him more could at least help with his inquiry, but that wasn't going so well, now was it? He could only continue to groan in frustration and perhaps a hint of jealousy, slamming his fist against a wall.

     Maybe he wasn't focused enough while praying. The individuals he wanted to affect with his incense seemed to just barely tolerate him more as well, an unusual result. However, this could only mean that this might be a bigger issue than Affogato initially expected. It was very rare for the shaman to get distracted during these rituals.

     What could have happened?

     Was it his anger from his nightly duties as advisor yesterday? No, no, he would always be in a bitter mood after those. Could he have thought too much about his next victims? That couldn't possibly be it either, there were nights where Affogato had pondered for longer while praying. He continued to grumble as he thought; regardless of what it was, he'd have to do what he could to make sure this didn't happen again.

     For now, he couldn't dwell too long over something so trivial; he still had other errands to fulfill and meetings to attend to. Affogato sighed seethingly before leaving his room, pushing this predicament to the back of his mind as he went. It was going to be a rough afternoon.

     Begrudgingly, Affogato attended to his duties, doing them to the best of his ability, and afterwards visited his altar, making sure to maintain his focus while reciting his prayers this time. Now, he could finally retire for the night and rest. Affogato walked sluggishly into his bathroom connected to his quarters, removed his makeup, and restyled his braids into a bun. With a brief yawn, he went back into his room and changed into more appropriate bed-wear, a simple white robe, putting extreme care into folding and putting away the layers of his usual outfit. Grabbing his staff, Affogato glanced at his bedding, which was located on the floor. Though he had woken up a few times with sore sides from his rest—he tossed and turned on their sides in his sleep, which wasn't ideal to do on a sleeping mat—currently the shaman wanted nothing more than to drop directly onto his bed and pass out in the softness of his sheets and the sleeping mat. Yet, he didn't consider himself as the reckless type, being especially meticulous in their night-time routines.