His Majesty's Devious Sins

Chapter 53 - Sour Mood

Weston watched with irritation as His Majesty carried Adeline out of the room. Forget being the talk of the town, they were going to be the talk of the nation tomorrow. He held back a sigh, knowing people would view Adeline as His Majesty's weakness.

"Smile, Wes." Easton shook his head with a smile. "Maybe His Majesty truly found someone he loves."

Weston loudly scoffed before rolling his eyes. "His Majesty is unable to love. He does not know that emotion. She merely amuses him, that's all."

Easton pitifully glanced towards the ground. It was true. His Majesty did not possess the human emotions of "love." That was why the council of the Empire of Wraith believed His Majesty needed to wed the Golden Rose. She was a miracle of a woman, and perhaps, she could perform a miracle on Wraith's heartless King.

"If only the late Queen didn't experiment on His Majesty…" Easton muttered.

Easton closed his eyes and instantly regretted it. The face of a desolate boy, with a humorous smile but aloof eyes, flashed in his mind. The gurgling of blood, a wretched scream in a cellar, and a massive explosion.

"No amount of tears will reverse time," Weston snapped.

Weston did not enjoy talking about the topic. It was taboo, and not many people knew of it. The incident had happened two centuries ago.

"Besides, if his Majesty does not regret it, we do not have the rights too," Weston growled. "The experiment gave him a power unlike any other. What rights do we have to complain?"

Easton pressed his lips together, holding back a comeback. So what if His Majesty was able to control the shadows? So what if he inherited the traits of the devil? What was the point of it all if he could not appreciate it? What was the point of living if His Majesty did not understand love, no matter how much of his friends adored him?

"Don't look so grim, Ease," Weston sighed. He patted his brother upon the back and forced a smile. "You heard Matriarch Dorothy. 'When the Noble Flower blooms, a seedling will grow in an empty room.'"

Easton reluctantly nodded his head. Talking about the past made him unhappy. Especially when he knew he couldn't have done anything to save his good friend.

"The prophecy is obviously talking about the Golden Flower," Weston added on. "Once we confirm her identity, she will be able to teach His Majesty compassion and love."

Easton nodded again. He didn't feel like speaking. No matter what, they have to find the Golden Rose.

Easton would do everything in his power to find her. With this mindset in mind, he did not realize the time that had passed by.

One by one, the faces became a blur for Easton. He numbly bid them farewell and welcomed them back to the castle. The twins thanked the guests for attending, as Weston became the life of the party with his generous smiles and respectful nods.

- - - - -

"That was exhausting," Weston muttered.

Weston leaned against the closed doors of the exit. He swept a tired gaze over the ballroom.

Servants bustled around, quickly cleaning up the mess and organizing everything into place.

"I'm sorry," Easton admitted. "If only I hadn't reminisced about the unchangeable past, I wouldn't have been in such a sour mood to even smile."

Weston nodded. He tiredly rubbed his jaw. It was sore from all of the plastered smiles he had to wear in his brother's stead.

"It's fine," Weston said.

Weston understood how tender-hearted his younger brother was. At a young age, His Majesty was the only friend that the twins actually appreciated.

His Majesty never wanted something from the twins. Truthfully, he wanted nothing to do with the Fitzcharles. But fate always had different plans.

"Let's just assign the Head Butler to monitor the remainder of the cleanup," Weston said. "And then we can retire for the night to nag His Majesty a bit more…"

Weston trailed off when he saw a familiar face. Dressed in ivory, with hair of amber, and eyes of pure jade, he had seen an unexpected woman. His eyes went wide at the sight of her.

"Lady Claymore?" Easton called out, equally as surprised as his brother. What was going on?

Lydia Claymore seemed disheveled and confused. She had stepped from behind the grand staircase. Her expression was dim and she seemed lost.

"Did the party already end?" Lydia said with her brows wrung together in confusion.

"Yes, it ended just now, Lady Claymore," Easton stated. "What were you doing behind the staircases?"

Lydia's lips parted. "But I was only gone for five minutes… At the least, I would've known."

Easton tilted his head. "Five minutes…?"

Weston narrowed his eyes. This was too suspicious. "Last I recalled, you took the lemon pie from the table an hour ago, and was not seen since then. Five minutes is too much of a far-stretched lie."

"I'm not lying!" Lydia Claymore argued. She crossed her arms, her shoulders trembling a bit. "I swear I was literally gone for no more than five minutes."

"Well, what were you doing behind the staircase?" Easton gently asked. Perhaps there was a misunderstanding. Or, she was simply too bad with time. An hour would only feel like five minutes if one was having fun.

"There was a door there," Lydia admitted. "I saw a figure that looked like Adeline walking near the staircase, so I wanted to follow her and give her the pie, so she can sneakily eat the entire thing without anyone watching."

Weston's brows shot up. A door…? Behind the staircase?

"But when I got there, I saw the figure slip through the doors. Obviously, I followed her, thinking the door leads to a balcony or something. But before I knew it, there was this strange woman," Lydia blabbered on.

Weston's brows went higher with every word. He was instantly alarmed and did not know if he should believe her or not.

"This woman was in a hood, but I could tell she was a Vampire. I'm not dense," Lydia added on. She was breathless and there was a distraught look in her eyes. "She said something strange, and freaked me out with how creepy she was."

Easton tilted his head, wondering about the identity of the woman.

"She had this weird, knowing smile on her face and grabbed my hand. And gosh, she needs to lotion herself 24/7 because her hands were so hard, but anyway," Lydia breathed out. "She told me something so bizarre that I want to forget about it."

Lydia let out a small laugh at the thought of what the old woman said. "She began to reference this protagonist from a fairy tale book my nanny used to read to me as a child, but my mother absolutely hated it!"

Lydia could still remember her mother's wrath when she discovered the fairytale was read to her. "My Mother claimed that fairytale is outlandish and too disrespectful for women. I mean, who wants their kids to read about a woman being treated like some piece of ripe fruit?"

"You're going off-topic," Weston snapped. "What did the old woman say?"

Lydia recoiled in response. Her lips curled in irritation. Did he have to be so mean? She was just nervous and couldn't help her rambling.

"It's alright, Lady Claymore," Easton quickly comforted. "You're shaken up, and I expected this long of a story. Continue please."

Weston crossed his arms and irritably glanced away. He clamped his mouth shut and sneered towards the ground. He didn't find a fault in his behavior.

"Anyways, before I was rudely interrupted," Lydia huffed out. "The woman said it was so ironic that the person closest to me is also the one that will bring my ruin."

Lydia tightly gripped the sides of her ballgown. She was ruining the expensive material, and the lace would be crumpled.

Thinking back to that old woman's hurts terrified her. When she mentioned the person closest to her, Lydia instantly thought of Adeline. There was no other friend that Lydia adored and loved more than Adeline.

To hear such a horrible comment… her heart was instantly restless. Viscountess Marden always said Lydia was a bad influence. How could Adeline possibly ruin Lydia?

"And then?" Easton gently said. "What did the elderly woman say?"

Easton was genuinely curious. A third door in the ballroom? An old woman? Lost of time? This sounded like the meddling of someone he was familiar with. Matriarch Dorothy Luxton.

Easton saw Lydia Claymore's hesitant glance towards Weston, who was now looking at her again. For a split second, their eyes met before she loudly sighed.

"Well…" she trailed off.

Easton couldn't help but note how striking Lydia Claymore's features were. Her hair was as brilliantly bright as the sunlight, and her eyes were as vibrant as summer trees.

An unexpected wave of uneasiness coursed through him.

"The woman claimed I was the Golden Rose," Lydia Claymore admitted.

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