Opposites Attract Side Stories: When An Angel's Love Descends

Chapter 19: Forced Normalcy

Days had passed since Cressida reemerged from the shadows, and King Elliot wasted no time in bringing him back into the fold of his royal duties. It was as if no time had passed at all—as if the last thirteen years of isolation and despair had been nothing more than a fleeting moment in the grand tapestry of their lives. Elliot insisted on involving Cressida in everything, from council meetings to public appearances, all with an air of normalcy that felt forced, almost desperate.

Elliot's heart brimmed with a joy so profound it was nearly painful. Every time he looked at Cressida, he saw not the man his son had become, but the boy he remembered—the boy who had once been the light of his life, the embodiment of the kingdom's future. It was this image that sustained him, driving him to believe that everything was as it should be. But deep within the recesses of his mind, a gnawing doubt persisted, a whisper that told him things were not quite right. Yet Elliot, blinded by his own need for happiness, brushed these thoughts aside. He had his son back, and that was all that mattered.

The royal advisors, ministers, and attendants who had long served the kingdom with unwavering loyalty now found themselves in the presence of a man who, by all outward appearances, was the prince they remembered. Yet, beneath the surface, something was undeniably off. His hands would rest on the table, fingers twitching ever so slightly as if they wanted to reach out, to grab something, to... do something. His eyes, once lively and full of curiosity, now held a vacant, distant quality, as though he were looking through everything and everyone rather than at them. Those in the room could feel the strange tension in the air, but none dared speak of it, fearful of what it might mean.

Whispers circulated among the servants and lower-ranking officials, carried through the winding corridors of the castle by those who were closest to the prince's presence. They spoke of the way his fingers would curl and uncurl, of how his gaze would linger on nothing in particular, and how the warmth that had once characterized him had been replaced by an unsettling calm. No one dared voice these concerns aloud, not even to each other, lest the mere act of speaking give life to the darkness they all sensed but could not define.

Elliot, blinded by hope and love, did not see the darkness simmering just beneath the surface of his son's gaze. He missed the subtle signs—the too-tight smiles, the way Cressida's hands gripped the arms of his chair during meetings, his knuckles white with suppressed tension. The king was so desperate to believe that everything was as it should be, that the years of isolation and madness had not left their mark on his beloved son, that he ignored the warning signs. He saw what he wanted to see: a son who had returned to him, whole and unbroken.

During council meetings, Elliot often found himself stealing glances at Cressida, his heart swelling with a mixture of pride and relief. He would watch as his son listened to the advisors' reports, offering his opinions with a calm and measured tone. To anyone else, Cressida appeared to be the picture of composure, the very image of a prince who had matured during his years of solitude. But Elliot, in his quiet moments of introspection, noticed the hollowness in his son's voice, the mechanical nature of his responses. There was a detachment in Cressida's demeanor, a distance that could not be bridged by mere words or actions. Yet Elliot chose to ignore it, unwilling to confront the possibility that the son he had regained might not be the same boy he had lost.

The royal court, however, was not so easily deceived. The courtiers, who had long thrived on gossip and speculation, found themselves at a loss. They exchanged uneasy glances when Cressida wasn't looking, their conversations tinged with worry and confusion. What had become of the prince during his years of isolation? What was this unsettling aura that surrounded him now? They had no answers, only suspicions, but none of them dared to voice their concerns to the king. Elliot's joy at his son's return was so palpable, so desperately needed, that no one wanted to shatter the fragile illusion he had created.