Chapter 2: Return of the Exiled Prince

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"Father?" he called, bringing his father back to reality.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Father Addington looked at his son sorrowfully. His expression made Augustus' stomach churn, and not in a good way. But that same expression also meant that his father knew exactly which 'cousin', Maxillium was talking about.

He regretted, back there, how he couldn't handle the atmosphere, making him forget and ultimately resulting in him not asking the Emperor who was this future fiance of his was? So now he hoped that his father could tell him about them.

"You know about Emperor John Madok Alsisar, right? Well, at least what the books say?"

A sudden tension built up as soon as his father spoke those words and dumbfounded Augustus could only nod.

"The books might have sugarcoated what exactly happened. Or that's what my Father said. The Addington' prided over being the advisers for the Emperors, generation after generations. Emperor John, as retold by my Father, 'He is a piece of art.' The Emperor, from younger days, had a keen interest in things a king shouldn't have. One of his interests was the then crowned prince's Giles, soon to be crowned princess, Julian. She was a seer, down from the southwest, living near the Churning Ocean."

Churning Ocean?!

But, isn't that just a bedtime story? He was confused and couldn't see why the royals feared the return of Crown prince Giles's blood. Well if his memories serve him right, that ocean, not quite but a lake that is said to be as endless as an ocean. But it had an interesting story floating around it.

The story wasn't as interesting as the other myths but somehow piqued his mother's interest. Later being her favourite. Augustus gripped the arm of his chair, thinking about how he would have begged his mother to tell him the story, the only story she knew. And excitement perhaps would be heard from her voice as she would animately narrate.

'Years ago, when Almighty Creator, Accan was creating his universe, he was lost in his own space and unknown to him. From his all-seeing eyes fell a drop of tear while travelling all the way to his chin. And then it fell. So big the drop was said, it could have drowned one whole planet. And unfortunately, that same drop was about to fall upon the planet of the living, Gaia. Seeing the cosmic drop was about to destroy their land and ultimately them, they sent their prayer to the Almighty Protector, Konow.

Pleased by their prayers, Konow left his cosmic abode to the southwest of Gaia. Till then that land was barren and untouched. He, following his beloved peoples' request, immediately built an endless depth for the cosmic drop to rest.

In full speed, the drop was led by the hands of Konow, and fell into the depth causing the splattered water to create an immense rain for a whole 7 hours.

People drenched in that rainwater were blessed with the eyes of a seer. And since then the tribe of the southwest were known as the 'Messengers of the Gods'. Plus, they were also said to have the most mystic eyes one could ever see. That's why when one comes across this tribe they should keep their eyes shut or can ask them to do so.'

A melancholic smile crept up his face. But he still couldn't grasp why exile Giles, does that mean that the fiction that travels amongst the commoners is true? Agitated and interested himself, Augustus was getting more and more curious.

But looking at his father, looking clearly worn out, he said.

"Father, I am sleepy. Let's continue tomorrow."

Grateful, the older Addington smiled and said, "Yes, let's do that. I hope you return to your bed-chamber, not the library."

Awkwardly, Augustus smiled. "Yes!"

***

Eugene's earliest memories were still vivid to him. Like a recorded piece, played again and again, forcing him to never forget. He didn't know why the memory, he deliberately pushed back, rushed towards him at full force, right at this moment.

Perhaps it was the full moon or the whole atmosphere. Maybe it was the mansion that was now coming into his view.

The reality was slipping away, replacing it with one of his horrid recollection of his younger days. He dug his nails deep into his scalp, hoping the pain would replace the memories. But in vain, dark memories took over him and painfully suffocated him.

It was a beautiful night. The dark sky illuminating it enchanting with its small droplets of white light, the stars and the moon filled the dark canvas. Eugene recognises it was his first night here, in the mansion far away from everyone, far away from the royal palace. They said that his father was bewitched by his mother. But his father kept repeating they killed his mother.

He was too young, too naïve to understand what was going on. But that night was too beautiful, too mesmerising even for a young five years old to forget everything. But to his younger self, that didn't matter. Nor mattered the father who was wailing, shouting in agony, drinking and destroying everything behind the closed door.

Fearing, what a monstrous beast his father had turned into, he begged the Almighty to make his father stop, let all the painful things around him stop, empty words for someone but to him, every word mattered.

And to his cruel fate, it did. Suddenly everything was in complete silence as if the time had come into a pause. If not for the maid who was shot dead in front of him. He would have thought the Gods have finally listened to him.

The warm blood splattered all over his tiny body, soaking him wet in the rain of red liquid. He was horrified, no, he was terrified. He...

"... ng Mast...!"

He wanted to hide, run or just vanished.

"Young Master!"

Eugene's eyes were met with the unknown man in front. That man with salt pepper hair seemed concerned and reached his hand to support Eugene.

Eugene pulled out his hands from his head to the man's face, telling him to stop.

"I don't need help."

"But Sir-" Butler Hans said.

***

Hans, once a proud butler of the crowned prince Giles infamous household, now the butler of an almost ruined mansion, two months ago received the message that the old yet new owner of Golden Gate mansion was returning.

Stunned as he was, his time had finally arrived to perform his duty once again. Though saddened with the remembrance of Prince Giles, he was ready to serve the new master of this manor.

For him, all mattered was his master, Prince Eugene, nothing else.

Rumours among royals were like a coin, always having two sides of the story. Two months previously his mission was to clean the manor, train the new staff, patiently wait for their newly arriving master.

But one month ago, he came in contact with a rumour or rather what he would say is fiction. As per the tale of Prince Eugene, the only son of Prince Giles. He was a man who can call upon someone's death. Only a second of eye contact and the God of Death, Yaros, comes to one's dream taking the person's soul away.

At first, he was about to dismiss such an exaggerated and nonsensical story but his experience of forty years told him that rumours are not always baseless. Annoyed with the commoners' rumour, he almost gave them an earful of scolding. And soon that month turned into days and now he waited for the new Lord of this household.

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