Third Arc (Fallen Heart) – 248. Hanged I
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Third Arc (Fallen Heart) - 248. Hanged I
The night wore on, its inky shroud gradually giving way to the subtle light of predawn. Angel and Rose remained on the balcony, their silent vigil stretching into the early morning. They had played their roles to perfection, ensuring that any potential witnesses believed they had been within the confines of their chamber throughout the night.
Finally, satisfied that they had accrued enough evidence to support their alibi, they made their way back inside the chamber. Fatigue, both physical and emotional, weighed heavily upon them. The events of the evening had been emotionally taxing, forcing them to confront the ghosts of their past.
Angel lay upon the bed, his eyes closed as if surrendering to the night's embrace. He tried to feign sleep, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest mimicking the steady cadence of slumber. However, beneath this façade, his mind remained in a relentless whirlwind.
Despite his physical exhaustion, sleep remained elusive. His thoughts were a tumultuous sea, tossing and turning, unable to find the calm waters of rest.
The morning sun, a gentle harbinger of the day, began its ascent on the horizon, casting a soft, golden glow over the palace. Its warm rays stretched through the windows, painting intricate patterns of light and shadow upon the tapestries and polished floors.
However, this morning was anything but usual. Instead of the customary tranquility that graced the palace at dawn, a gut-wrenching scream pierced the hushed air, shattering the peace like a fragile vase dropped upon the marble floor.
The sound echoed through the corridors, reverberating with a haunting resonance. It was a cry of shock and disbelief, a sound that promised to etch itself into the memories of those who heard it, a cry that heralded tragedy.
Within moments, the palace stirred to life with a sense of urgency. It was as if the very walls whispered secrets of the unthinkable, urging its inhabitants to action. Doctors, their steps quickened by dread, rushed from their chambers. Servants abandoned their duties, eyes wide with anxiety, as they converged upon the source of the commotion. Guards, their armor clicking with every stride, hastened towards the scene.
The crowd grew, a throng of curious and horrified onlookers, their faces painted with shock as they tried to comprehend the sight that awaited them. Their collective gasps filled the air, mingling with the anxious whispers that buzzed like a swarm of disturbed bees.
Their collective gaze fell upon Ilex's room, its door slightly ajar. There, suspended in a cruel dance with gravity, hung Ilex's lifeless body. The torn curtain, the makeshift instrument of his demise, clung to the chandelier, a macabre tableau against the morning light. His life had been extinguished, and his form dangled silently, an eerie shadow against the backdrop of a new day.
A breathless servant approached King Gervis's chamber. Panic etched across the servant's face, he knocked urgently on the door.
- Knock, knock, knock!
Inside, King Gervis, still cloaked in the remnants of sleep, stirred from his slumber. His eyes blinked open, adjusting to the dim light filtering through the chamber's heavy curtains. He pushed himself up, his mind clouded with the remnants of dreams.
- Knock, knock, knock!
The servant's voice trembled as he spoke, the urgency palpable in every word. "Your Majesty! Something has happened to the prince. You must come quickly!"
King Gervis's heart leaped into his throat, his weariness vanishing in an instant. He flung aside the blankets and scrambled out of bed, heedless of his disheveled nightwear. Worry gnawed at him as he rushed towards the door, his bare feet padding hastily across the polished marble floor.
The door creaked open, revealing a disheveled King Gervis, his expression a mix of concern and confusion. His hair was tousled from sleep, and his eyes, usually regal and composed, were wide with alarm. He scanned the servant's face, searching for answers.
"What has happened?" King Gervis demanded, his voice edged with both anxiety and irritation at being awakened so abruptly.
The servant swallowed hard, struggling to find his voice amidst the turmoil within him. His words spilled forth in a torrent, an urgent plea for the king's immediate attention. "Your Majesty, it's Prince Ilex. Something terrible has occurred. You must come at once!"
King Gervis's heart plummeted at the servant's words, dread settling heavily in his chest. Fear coursed through him as he braced himself for the unthinkable. "Tell me, quickly," he implored, his voice wavering with the dread of what he was about to hear.
The servant's voice trembled as he delivered the crushing news. "Prince Ilex... he hanged himself, Your Majesty. You must come to his chambers immediately."
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