Chapter Text
It all started with a scream.
The young prince had been unable to sleep properly as of late. Practically every servant knew it, but refused to talk about it in the case they accidentally did it within earshot of the king. They all knew that the King had been irritable as of late. Possibly from his son's constant worries and pleas that there was a monster in the Citadel.
For weeks now, almost a month, the young prince had been insisting that there was a monster following him. Which wasn’t an odd thing to say on its own, after all, the woods near the Citadel crawled with all sorts of nasty things. However the King and his most loyal watchers had found nothing, writing it off as nothing but the child’s overactive imagination. Even when he had been insistent there was a monster.
Regardless, Bitter Ganache still had to wake up the young prince to get him ready for the day. She had only started a couple months ago but was assigned to the prince only a week after she started actually working there. She had been seeing the prince’s health decline in real time and it hurt to see. After all, she had a young one of her own, barely a year, but she knew how picky children could be with sleep.
Recently she had been worried about him more than usual. After all, he’d barely been eating or sleeping. He had even refused to eat before he went to bed, insisting that the food made him feel dizzy. No matter how she tried to persuade him he refused to eat. Slowly she reached to open the door, pausing for a second before shouting her usual greeting to the prince. She heard no reply. She opened the door, figuring the prince was already awake and ready to train.
Only for her to scream at the sight that laid before her.
One after another, servants poured in to get a sight of the tragedy, just to see the poor prince's corpse laying on the cold jam soaked wood. Some gawked, others cried, most just walked off as if they didn’t just see a murdered child. The king's advisor soon showed, a hand covering his mouth in horror as he gazed upon the child’s form. He ran to tell the king moments after, his footsteps echoing through the hall as he fled.
Little did any of those servants know, those footsteps weren’t ones of panic, nor fear, but pure pride at the sight of the monster's handiwork, being observed by all. It brought a strange sense of glee to see everyone huddled around his work, no matter how morbid it was. The cherry atop his jam soaked sundae would be the sight of the foolish king finally breaking at the sight.
“Your Majesty! Please… the prince…” The monster pleaded, his face a perfect mask of panic. The King sighed, his eyes still focused on his documents. He was sure whatever the prince had done could wait, especially if it involved his fantasy about monsters in the Citadel. Yet, as he finally looked at his advisor's face, something told him this wasn’t just another plea that there was a monster under his child’s bed. So he finally stood, his advisors quickened, near panicked steps did little to reassure him.
However, what little reassurance he had was quickly killed as he finally saw his son. He was dead. His eyes closed and his neck slashed open. A large pool of jam surrounded the boy, as if he was floating in a lake of red. Dark Cacao held his son, (When had he gotten here? He was just in the doorway a minute ago.) his hands trembling like a leaf in a blizzard. He felt like he couldn’t breath, as if the breath from his lungs had been stolen like his son's life.
He felt so cold. Colder than any storm or snow could ever be. Colder than anything could ever be. “Please… my son… my boy… please…” he cried. (When did he start crying? When did his tears start to flood his poor boy's face?) He held the boy close, a silent, desperate plea for this to be a joke, an awful, terrible joke that his son played on him. He waited for something he knew would never happen.
He waited for his son to wake up with his large smile and greet him like he used to, calling him Appa and clinging to his robes as they walked. Though… that had been so long ago, hadn’t it? He couldn’t remember the last time his boy actually called him ‘Appa’ rather than Father. It had been so long since the king had actually awoken his son himself, to greet him early in the morning with a smile. To see his son smile back at him, to cling to him. When was the last time that had happened?
He couldn’t think of that right now, not when his son's body felt too heavy in his arms. Not when the clarity finally cut through the grief that his son was right. There had been a monster, just not one that bore sharp teeth nor claws. He had ignored his boy, thinking it was nothing more than a fantasy. “Y-your Majesty?” His Advisor asked, as he gently rested his hand upon the king's shoulder.
The advisor's hand was swatted away, the kings eyes staring at him like a near murderous animal. Affogato stepped back, retracting his hand as if he had touched fire. He had to force his grin down as the king finally stood, the fabric of his outfit peeling off of the floor with a sticky rip. No one dared to say anything as the king left, their eyes watching in silent sympathy as he left. His son's limp body hung from his arms as he carried the boy away. His steps the only sound in a once loud and busy Citadel, rang hollow.
The rest of the day was somber, though that felt too mild of a word for the sorrow that seemed to drown the Citadel. Dark Cacao had locked himself in his room soon after he had left the prince's corpse with the mortuary.
It was too quiet.
He hated it, he hated the silence that now surrounded the Citadel. It felt near deafening. He missed his son's laugh, the way his little eyes lit up at the simplest of things. How the boy would ask constant questions about things that seemed so obvious. To him, they were new and exciting, with every question leading to a potential adventure.
He still remembered how his boy would sneak away during play time to follow the servants around. His curious little gaze followed their routines as if it was magic being performed in front of him. That… had stopped the moment Dark Cacao had scolded him for bothering them, for distracting them from their work. His chest ached at the memory of his son’s watery eyes as he apologized.
Dark Cacao sighed, trying desperately to get his mind off of the past. Off of his son. Yet he couldn’t, he couldn’t help but think of the way his son’s body felt too light. How his son's body was far too cold and rigid. How his son's jam refused to leave his hanbok, and how it remained there when he didn’t. “Your Majesty?” His Advisor called, his voice filled with concern.
Dark Cacao scoffed, only glancing at the man before waving him away.
“Get out.”
He ordered. Affogato sighed, his footsteps drawing closer to the bed, the slight creak of the wood sounding like an alarm in the quiet room.
“I understand that-“
“You understand nothing!”
Dark Cacao interrupted, finally looking his advisor in the eye. His shoulders shook, from rage or sorrow, he couldn’t tell, maybe both. “You do not understand how I feel. You will never understand how I feel.” He seethed.
The advisor didn’t flinch, his face softened even further as he offered a steaming cup of tea the king hadn’t seen before. Dark Cacao sighed, his shoulders slumping as he took the tea, it was bitter like everything else in his kingdom. Everything except for his son, who seemed to have been the sweetest thing his kingdom had.
Affogato sat by the king's side, offering his condolences while the king drank the tea. Dark Cacao didn’t even notice his advisors' glance to the king's side. Though he did see his advisors sneer at what seemed to be empty air. The king gave the other cookie a puzzled look, watching as the advisor recoiled slightly and apologized.
“Apologies my king, I was just sneering at the thought of the monster who slayed your son.” The advisor explained away. Dark Cacao shook his head and took another drink of his tea, missing the look of relief that crossed the other cookies face. The rest of the meeting was fairly unproductive, nothing but idle chatter and needless condolences.
The king couldn’t help but feel tired of them, practically every cookie in the citadel had already expressed their sorrow. He didn’t know how many more empty apologies he could take. He didn’t know how much more grief he could take. It had been a couple days since his son had passed, though the funeral service had ended most still wore their funeral hanboks.
Perhaps it was to show respect, or because they simply didn’t care the funeral was over and they were still grieving in their own way. Dark Cacao didn’t care, though he didn’t seem to care about much recently. Everything seemed to remind him of his son in a way, and now everything felt lifeless. The halls felt too quiet without his questions and laughter.
Though some things he could remember, like the last time his boy had called him ‘Appa’ instead of ‘Father’. Or the last time he had given his boy a hug or smile. All the little things that seemed meaningless or simple formalities now felt heavier. He couldn’t even remember the last time his son smiled at him, showing that wide grin that seemed to light up whatever room he was in.
Now all of that was gone. His son, his joy. His little light had been snuffed out. Now he was left in the dark, alone. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he covered himself in his fur blanket, wishing to escape the cruelty of the world for a moment.
Though no one could see it, little eyes watched him, pleading to be seen.