Dark Chronicle: Long Live the Queen

Chapter 8: Bringer of unwelcome news.

Monica returned to her castle in an automated flying car powered by Aeroharmonics Technology, a concept originally conceived by the reformed Dr. Jamming and perfected by his grandson. However, her worried expression did not go unnoticed by Gaius, who noticed her unease and inquired about it.

Tilly, sensing Monica's distraction, gently tapped her on the shoulder and reminded her of Gaius' concern. Monica snapped back to reality and acknowledged Gaius' question. However, she was still lost in her thoughts and replied, "I'm...I am okay, Gaius. I just have a lot on my mind right now."

Curious, Gaius probed further, asking Monica what was bothering her. Monica hesitated for a moment before expressing her concerns. "Well, for starters, I'm not particularly fond of the idea of attending a hunting expedition with Lady Medici and her sons," she replied, masking her disapproval towards her advisor. "Even my father warned me to never associate with that family. Her sons have a reputation for causing trouble, and they seem to get away with actions that would have a commoner arrested. Moreover, she seems to have this idea that I would entertain the thought of marrying one of them."

Gaius, emphasizing the importance of securing an heir to the throne once Monica turned eighteen, countered her objections. "Even if you don't approve of their actions, my queen, it is crucial to consider the future of the kingdom," he reminded her, attempting to ensure that Monica understood the weight of her duties.

However, Monica stood her ground and refuted Gaius' statement. "If I am to have a husband, Gaius, he must prove himself worthy of my approval. He should prioritize the needs of others over himself and treat me as an equal," Monica asserted, emphasizing her personal criteria for a suitable partner. As she expressed her criteria, her mind wandered to an individual who met all those qualifications but existed a century ago. With a tinge of sorrow in her voice, she whispered, "Max," realizing that they would never be reunited.

Upon hearing Max's name slip from the queen's lips, Gaius saw an opening to share what he had unearthed. "Speaking of Max, my queen, I have stumbled upon some bits of his history."

Monica's interest was piqued, her ears attuned to any narrative of her friend's fate. "Tell me about him, Gaius. Did he manage to carve out a fulfilling life after Griffon's downfall?"

With a gravity befitting the news he was about to deliver; Gaius presented the inevitable truth. "I'm afraid he's no longer with us, my queen."

Monica nodded; an acknowledgment steeped in realism. "I assumed as much-it was a century ago, after all," she remarked, her thoughts racing ahead. "But what I seek to know is whether he found love, started a family... I wish to meet with his descendants, to ensure his legacy receives the recognition it so rightly deserves. How old was he at his life's end?"

Amid this delicate conversation, Gaius found himself oscillating between the file in his hand and the woman whose composure he feared might falter. With a swallowed breath, he divulged the grim revelation, "Fourteen, my queen."

The news struck Monica with the weight of a lost future. "Four...fourteen?" The word echoed, disbelief etching her features. The same age at which their paths had crossed, and now to learn his journey ended so soon thereafter. A poignant hush filled the space as Monica grieved, a soft murmur escaping her, "He never had the chance to truly live." And in those quiet moments, it was as if a piece of the past had dimmed, its promise forever unfulfilled.

Regaining her composure, the queen pursued another line of inquiry with Gaius. "What of Tren? She belongs to our time, surely there must be records of her."

Gaius's response was immediate and unequivocal. "Regrettably, my queen, there appears to be no trace of the girl. No records of birth, no known domicile-utterly unaccounted for."

Monica's frustration was palpable. "Gaius, I can't accept that. Tren was very real to me-we had our secret owl calls, shared meals, and I even contemplated gifting her a dress. I remember because she was an undeniable part of my reality."

"I do not doubt your experience, my queen," Gaius assured her, but with an air of solemnity, he began to explain his rationale. "Consider, when you recounted your journey a century back to realign the timeline, you noted some historical details changed, however subtly. You told me that The Great Sage Crest was originally a man. Yet, in our current history, his apprentice Lin assumed his name to preserve the legacy and became an invaluable ally in our conflict with Griffon."

"That's right," Monica concurred, recalling the alliance that had been formed in those critical moments.

Yet Gaius had not concluded his point. "Another illustration of such changes is this flying car we are seated in. You mentioned that Aeroharmonics Technology was non-existent during your previous lineage, and now it's a staple of our society."

Monica tensed, anticipation colouring her voice as she asked, "What are you suggesting, Gaius?"

"My queen," Gaius ventured with caution, "while you've certainly contributed positively to the restored timeline, is it not conceivable that some elements might have been inadvertently altered or even omitted?"

The implications of Gaius's suggestion hit Monica with a gut-wrenching force. "Are you implying that my interventions in the past might have caused Tren's very existence to be... erased?" The thought was unbearable, eclipsing the sorrow of loss with the horror of unintended annihilation. Consumed by this grave notion, Monica found herself adrift once again in her overcast thoughts, speechless in the face of a possibility that she had never intended nor foreseen.

Gaius observed the weight of the revelation settling over Monica like a shroud. "This revelation has exacted a heavy toll upon the Queen," he remarked, revealing a hint of concern beneath his formal decorum. "Lisa, Tilly, upon our return to the castle, escort the Queen directly to her chambers. She needs respite. Tomorrow's duties require her to meet with the townspeople, and she must be at her finest."

The handmaidens, tuned to the gravity of the situation, acknowledged the directive with a practiced harmony. "At once, Master Gaius," they responded.

Amidst this exchange, a cascade of internal lament besieged Monica. In the quiet recesses of her mind, a torrent of sorrow for the youthful friend whose life was cut tragically short, and a pang of desolation for the one who might have been etched out of existence itself, conjoined. Enveloped by these thoughts, she braced herself against the tides of grief that accompanied the losses-one of life, the other of legacy-whilst the flying car continued its unwavering path towards the sanctuary of the castle.