Chapter 250: Melody Of The Withered Rose
Back in the Chevalier Palace, Duncan traversed through the highest quarters with an ethereal grace, his crimson eyes scanning the opulent surroundings as he strolled by. His tranquil presence casted a shadow that danced along the tapestries adorning the wall, and the place was brightly lit by sconces, whilst making his presence more alluring to those who managed to steal a peek at him when it wasn’t night time.
The servants he ran into immediately lowered their heads in fear, keeping a good distance from him as they politely bowed, but their actions were nothing new to him. They can shamelessly go the whole day fucking him in their dreams, but in front of him, they cower at the mere sight of his presence, some even felt pity for him, and that only made him detest being in the presence of crowds– or anyone for that matter, but today, he chose to ignore everything.
He was on his way to visit the upper garden where the herbs Ivan usually brought for him were planted, and in Ivan’s absence, he wanted to get them himself. He could have easily sent a servant to gather them for him, but as someone who possessed a secretive interest in herbs and plants, he decided to go by himself– not to mention but, it was tiring staying indoors 24/7 hrs of the day.
As he wandered deeper into the heart of the Palace, Duncan’s footsteps, though nearly soundless, echoed with each stride on the marble floor. He passed Chambers of nobles, ornate and empty. His gaze was seemingly focused on the direction he was heading to, but when he passed a particular ornate door, he subconsciously stopped in his gait.
"Hmm?"
Turning his head to gaze at what had unprecedentedly drawn his attention, before him stood the door to the room that had remained sealed, since the day the Queen’s life– Ivan’s Mother, had come to a tragic end. Rumors whispered through the decades claimed that she had committed suicide after her husband, the late King, had met his untimely demise. For a moment, Duncan gazed at it, his fingers hovering over the gilded doorknob, and as silly as it may sound, he picked up a faint, peculiar energy coming from inside the chamber.
This Chamber had been locked since the moment she died, he knew this much because he was here when the court declared her actions as abominable, and due to that, she never got buried with her death rites performed. That was the same day Ivan lost his temper, and that was the same day he admired him too.
When he touched the doorknob, waves of memories shared within this very spot invaded his head, and none of those memories bore happy moments, whilst he took his hands away, returning his mind to the present. He had heard stories– the stories of despair that clung to this room, like ivy to a stone wall. From what he had seen, he now understood why Ivan refused to move up here after being crowned King. With all the terrible memories tied to these quarters, it wouldn’t be healthy for him to stay here.
"Should I?" He thought out loud.
Thinking twice about what he wanted to do, Duncan looked around to make sure there was no one at sight. When that had been confirmed, he quietly pushed the door open, and as it creaked, he stepped inside. A heavy, musky scent filled the air, as if the memories of the past were locked in every corner. The room was frozen in time, as if the Queen’s spirit had preserved it just as she had left it, and he stopped walking when he stood at the center of the room.