Chapter Text
---
Wednesday crossed the threshold, his face impassive as ever. Eugene placed the pen delicately on the desk and stood up.
—Wednesday! Your presence honors me. To what do I owe the privilege of this audience?
—I have come to collect an outstanding debt.
Eugene showed no surprise whatsoever.
—I was looking forward to your arrival, my dear friend.
Wednesday kept her penetrating gaze fixed on him.
—I require that my brother remain under your court for a certain period of time.
—Under what design?
—As a court jester.
For the first time, the duke hesitated.
—With all due respect... my court does not require the services of a jester.
—It's not a request, it's a demand.
The silence between them was long, heavy and meaningful. Finally, Eugene bowed his head in submission.
—I owe you my life, Addams. If that is the favor you wish to receive, it will be granted without delay. Your brother will be received with all the honors due to a servant of this kingdom.
--
"I never imagined the extent of my regret... until the jester appeared."
That was the thought that crossed Ottinger's mind as the doors to the great hall opened once more, revealing the majesty of the court of the six united kingdoms. The tall arched windows admitted the light of the setting sun, which filtered through the golden curtains, their edges trimmed with crimson. The walls were covered with tapestries depicting the exploits of his ancestors, and the polished marble floor reflected the crystal bees that hung from the ceiling.
The echo of the heavy hinges resonated through the room. A guard struck the floor with his lance in a sign of respect.
—Your Excellency! The arrival of the new court jester is announced.
Eugene remained seated on his carved oak throne, his appearance a mask of forced serenity.
"What harm can a mere jester do?"
After all, he had agreed to that demand because Wednesday had saved his life by finding him wounded thanks to Hyde. A jester was a negligible price to pay compared to a blood debt.
Then it manifested itself.
Pugsley crossed the threshold with an unsettling composure. His attire clashed violently with court etiquette. He wore a refined silk doublet with vertical bands of ebony and ivory, a garment more befitting a Venetian diplomat than a popular entertainer. A short cape of black velvet, as deep as a moonless night, rested on his shoulders, and a tricorn hat, adorned with a raven's feather, completed the ensemble with an extravagance unique to his lineage.
It wasn't grotesque. Nor threatening. Simply... anomalous. His outfit was unlike that of any jester I had ever seen before. Pugsley stopped in front of the dais. He didn't bow, nor did he utter a word. He simply held the duke's gaze, a broad, silent smile on his face. A smile difficult for the younger boy to interpret.
Eugene raised an eyebrow.
—So... you belong to the Addams family? Wednesday's brother... or am I mistaken?
No response.
Pugsley slowly moved a hand behind his back, and the halberdiers tensed. The young man revealed his hand again; he held a small bouquet of wildflowers. He extended it toward Eugene with complete nonchalance.
The duke descended a couple of steps from the throne. He took the bouquet politely.
—It's a thoughtful gesture from your...
An electric shock ran through my arm. The flowers burst into tiny numbers.
I dropped the bouquet instantly. The tingling sensation spread up my hand to my elbow. The guards reacted immediately. Some partially unsheathed their swords. I raised a hand to stop them, my gaze slowly returning to the jester. He remained exactly where he was, with the same expression, the same smile. As if this were perfectly normal.
I watched him for several seconds. The duke frowned.
— Did you just give me an electric shock?
Pugsley took a single step forward. Not a word, only a chuckle at her reaction. The silence grew thick, unbearably thick.
I exhaled very slowly. And I realized, too late, that accepting Wednesday's request would be far more complicated than I had anticipated. Because that buffoon... He was definitely not what protocol called for.
It was, without a doubt, something completely different from what its title implied.
--
The days began to unfold under a... peculiar routine. I quickly realized that a jester recognized neither schedules nor borders. Nor, it seemed, even the most basic instinct for survival.
Pugsley Addams was a constant presence around me. If I strolled through the gardens, he would emerge from behind some clipped bush. If I was holding audiences, he would lean against a pillar, twirling a flower between his fingers. If I was examining documents in the library, he would soon appear, sitting on the steps of a spiral staircase, watching me with that unchanging grin.
And, of course... He never missed an opportunity to pull one of his pranks. Each one more unfortunate than the last.
One morning I was reviewing several edicts of utmost importance in the throne room. The kingdom was enjoying an exceptional harvest, and I had to determine how to distribute the surplus among the domains. I would consider silence splendid.
Then Pugsley approached carrying a silver tray. On it rested a lit candle.
I frowned.
— What is its purpose?
He didn't answer. He just pointed at the candle with a smile, urging me to blow it out. I assumed she meant to give me a brief respite, nothing more. So I complied. I leaned forward slightly and exhaled. The flame went out, for exactly... an instant.
Then a tiny spark flew between Pugsley's fingers. Electricity jumped to the wick. The candle reignited. But this time with an overwhelming intensity. The flame grazed the edge of one of the parchments on my desk.
—...
I watched as the corner of the document began to slowly burn away.
Pugsley opened his eyes. The smile faded for the first time.
—...I'm afraid that wasn't the intended outcome.
I exhaled slowly. I picked up the porcelain vase that rested on the desk and poured the contents onto the parchment. The fire went out immediately. The room fell into a deathly silence. The councilors avoided my gaze, and the halberdiers didn't dare utter a word.
I slowly turned my head toward the jester. He was smiling again, with an almost insulting innocence. I fixed my gaze on him, without uttering a word. I merely raised an eyebrow.
Pugsley cleared his throat.
—Were you pleased?
I continued watching him, my expression unchanged, for several seconds. Finally, I answered.
—If your intention was to set fire to a royal parchment... you've pulled off a masterful prank.
Pugsley laughed with blatant effusiveness.
—I knew you'd appreciate the humor!
I shook my head slowly.
—No. I don't appreciate it.
I sat back down in my seat.
—I'm simply trying to understand how you managed to reach her age.
The jester shrugged indifferently.
—My sister makes the same observation.
I couldn't help but close my eyes and sigh deeply.
For the first time, I understood that perhaps... the true wonder didn't lie in Pugsley's strange electrical gift. The real miracle was that he was still alive after such a catalog of mischief. Maybe it's because he was an Addams... a very peculiar one.
--
One morning, as I was signing parchments in the silence of the library, Pugsley burst in without warning. He didn't say a word. He simply placed an elegant wooden case on my desk.
I examined it suspiciously. He merely smiled and nodded slightly at the box.
— What is the contents of this container?
Silence. His smile remained unchanged.
I exhaled with resignation and slowly opened the lid. Inside lay a small wreath woven with wildflowers. For a fleeting moment, I harbored the hope that, perhaps, she had decided to behave normally.
I took the crown in my hands.
—At least it doesn't seem that way this time...
¡CRACK!
A bluish spark streaked across the crown, the electrical discharge forcing me to release it immediately. The electricity jumped onto several scrolls resting on the desk.
One of them started to catch fire from a corner.
—FIRE!!! —exclaimed a scribe.
Before the flames could spread, I poured the contents of a wine glass (not his, but one belonging to the court) onto the documents. The fire was extinguished in a flash, the desk completely flooded. The parchments were irreparably damaged.
And the jester...
The jester remained there, with that expression of utter complacency, as if he had just performed the most magnificent of spectacles.
I examined him slowly, first the desk, then the documents. Finally, him. I frowned with the full force of my frustration.
—...
Pugsley raised both hands in a gesture of innocence.
—I just wanted the flowers to be... stunning.
What was observed over several long moments.
—They have been.
He interpreted my statement as a compliment.
—I appreciate your kind words!
I shook my head slowly.
—It wasn't a compliment.
—Ah.
He remained silent for barely two seconds.
— Should I try something bigger next time?
I closed my eyes. I exhaled deeply, very deeply.
—Pugsley...
—Yes, my duke?
I opened my eyes again.
—Next time you want to give me something...
I paused deliberately.
—...make sure it doesn't have the ability to reduce this castle to ashes.
He nodded with absolute seriousness.
-Understood.
I felt a slight relaxation, until she added with a smile.
—Then I'll use less electricity.
I frowned again.
--
As the weeks went by, Pugsley's pranks didn't get any better. If anything, they got worse.
One morning he hid a tiny beetle inside a cup meant for my breakfast. When I went to drink, the insect emerged, slowly walking along the rim.
—...Should I ask why?
Pugsley smiled proudly.
—So that he wouldn't have breakfast alone.
Eugene stared at him for a long time.
—It's a beetle.
—Very polite.
—Pugsley...
—Yes, my duke?
—Remove it.
—Immediately.
With almost absurd delicacy, Pugsley picked up the tiny beetle between two fingers.
—I appreciate your distinguished participation, sir.
The insect remained motionless, oblivious to the solemn thanks it had just received. Pugsley placed it on an open window and watched it disappear among the garden plants.
—Have a safe trip, my great friend.
Then he gave a brief nod in the direction the beetle had retreated.
I shook my head slowly. I couldn't understand how anyone could treat a beetle like it was an honored guest. Pugsley started walking away from the dining room, humming a tune that surely only he knew. I watched him go, and without being able to explain why, I sank into thought.
My mothers, Queens Sue Ottinger and Janet Ottinger, rarely stayed at the castle for long. Royal duty involved visiting other domains, settling border disputes, attending diplomatic meetings, and responding to requests that only they could handle.
From childhood, I had grown accustomed to seeing them off; it never caused me any regret. I knew they would return. And, in the meantime, the fortress continued to function under my responsibility as crown duke. I don't need their physical presence to perform my duty... Or at least, that was the conviction I had always been taught.
However, there was a time of day when that immense fortress became unnervingly quiet: dinner . During my childhood, the three voices filled the dining room. Sue would find any excuse to start a conversation. Janet listened more than she spoke, but she always chimed in when her opinion was needed. I simply heard them arguing about politics, travel, or the roses in the garden.
Now...
Many nights the table was set for three, and only one seat was occupied. I had never considered myself prone to solitude. But the silence during dinner proved difficult to ignore.
I looked away towards the window, I remembered the beetle.
"So he wouldn't have to eat breakfast alone."
A ridiculous, childish, pointless joke. And yet... It had managed to break the silence I'd resigned myself to. Pugsley wasn't even aware of it. For him, it had just been another one of his pranks. But, for a fleeting moment, the dining room stopped feeling so empty.
I watched as the jester disappeared down the corridor, still muttering something to himself. Then, almost without realizing it... I smiled. It was a tiny gesture, so fleeting that no one would have noticed it. Not even me, but it lingered for a few seconds before vanishing.
And, for the first time in a long time, the castle's immense dining room didn't seem like such a lonely place.
--
The pranks continued. And, against all logic... I stopped expecting them to be clever. I started simply expecting them to be... Pugsley.
One afternoon, I hid a small amphibian under my ceremonial crown. When I went to place it on my head, the animal jumped directly onto my shoulder.
Pugsley opened his arms with pride.
—I wished that Your Grace had an advisor of a more humble condition.
What was observed during a prolonged moment.
—It's a toad.
—He possesses a hearing capacity superior to that of some nobles.
I couldn't argue with that point.
Whenever Pugsley disappeared for a few hours, the castle seemed unusually quiet. He no longer frowned as often. Sometimes he didn't even wait for the outcome of his schemes. Just seeing him reappear with that expression of someone convinced he'd had a brilliant idea was enough to sense that disaster was imminent.
And, strangely... That no longer bothered me.
That morning we were strolling through the gardens. Pugsley was carrying a broom on his shoulder as if it were a halberd.
I decided not to ask any questions; experience had taught me that it was better to keep quiet. He stopped in front of a scarecrow placed among the crops. He observed it with great solemnity. Then he walked over to it and stood completely still. A minute passed.
Finally, he spoke with absolute seriousness.
—My duke...
— Yes?
— Do you know how crows can tell which of the two is the scarecrow?
I thought about it for a few seconds.
—No.
Pugsley pointed at the straw dummy.
—Because that's his job.
The silence was absolute; he remained completely serious. I tried to maintain my composure, pressed my lips together, and looked away. I took a deep breath.
No.
I wasn't going to laugh at something so absurd. I looked back at Pugsley. He was still waiting with admirable patience. Then I imagined the scarecrow enduring the whole day while the jester stood by, convinced that the dummy was the real worker. And, before I could stop him...
I laughed.
It wasn't a belly laugh. It was a brief, genuine chuckle. So spontaneous that it surprised even me.
Pugsley slowly opened his eyes. His smile vanished, and he remained completely still as if time had stopped. He didn't speak, didn't even blink. Several more seconds passed. Then I saw his lips move slightly, so softly I could barely hear him.
—... Cara mía...
I frowned slightly
—What did you just say?
Pugsley seemed to wake up suddenly, blinking several times.
—Huh?
—You exclaimed some words that I cannot recognize.
Pugsley shook his head too quickly.
—Just... a familiar expression.
—And what does it mean?
The jester nervously fiddled with the brim of his hat. He was silent for a moment.
—Forget it, my duke. Please excuse my boldness.
I continued watching him, not quite understanding. I didn't press the issue. However, as we resumed our walk through the gardens, that strange expression lingered in my mind. And, for some reason, that doubt stayed with me for the rest of the day.
--
The thud of hooves on the courtyard cobblestones announced the arrival of the royal procession before the castle gates had even fully opened. The kingdom's banners fluttered in the breeze as servants bowed in reverence. Halberdiers struck the ground with their weapons in perfect unison.
Sue dismounted first. Despite the long journey, she still wore her characteristic warm smile. Behind her came Janet, who handed the reins to a squire before thanking the soldiers for guarding the way.
—Welcome to your home, Your Majesties—the captain of the guard greeted, bowing his head.
The two queens responded with a slight nod. At the other end of the courtyard, Eugene had just emerged from the main hall to greet them. He didn't even have time to utter the customary greeting.
—¡Eugene!
Sue crossed the courtyard with an almost brisk pace, defying the formality of the moment. Before the young duke could react, he was already wrapped in her arms.
—My child!
—Mother...
Sue hugged him so tightly that Eugene let out a small groan, inaudible to everyone except her.
—Let me gaze upon you...
He grabbed him by the shoulders, examining him with a critical eye.
—You're thinner!
—I'm not, I assure you.
—Of course! Your cheeks have lost their freshness.
And, without giving her a chance to answer, she began to cover both of his cheeks with maternal kisses.
-Mother...
—One for each day I was absent from your side.
—That would be too many...
-I don't mind.
-Mother!...
Another kiss, and another, and yet another. Eugene closed his eyes in resignation, a noticeable blush beginning to tinge his pale face.
—Please, mother...
Laughter began to ripple around the courtyard, quickly stifled by the more discreet courtiers. The halberdiers tried to maintain their composure, though more than one concealed a smile behind their helmets. A few feet away, by a column, Pugsley watched the scene with obvious curiosity. He had never seen the usually stern duke in such an intimate and relaxed situation.
Janet walked in calmly, her dignified and serene demeanor a stark contrast to her wife's. Seeing Sue showering Eugene with kisses, she couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle.
—Sue, my love...
-And?
—I think he's already understood that we've returned.
—I'm still not sure that my joy has been properly conveyed.
Sue kissed her son's forehead again.
—Now yes.
Janet let out another laugh and decided to join in. She put an arm around Eugene and gave him a loving kiss on one of his temples.
—We are so happy to see you again, son.
Eugene let out a long sigh, a mixture of resignation and affection.
—Your absence has been felt, mothers. I have missed you.
Sue smiled tenderly.
—And yours, my son, has left a void in our hearts.
Janet gently placed a hand on Eugene's shoulder pad.
—An immense void.
The young duke, in a rare gesture of abandon, returned the embrace of both women, although a slight blush betrayed his usual composure.
Meanwhile, Pugsley watched the scene from a discreet distance, his face a mask of astonishment and reverence. Never in his life had he witnessed a family of such high birth display their affection with such boldness, free from the constraints of protocol.
And, without being aware of it, a smile appeared on his lips as he understood that, beneath the facade of authority and the gravity that the duke projected... there still dwelt the child that his mothers indulged, although his words of protest betrayed an affectionate resignation.
--
That evening, the castle dining room regained its full splendor. For the first time in several weeks, all three seats of honor were occupied. Candlelight reflected off the polished surface of the oak table as the servants finished serving dinner and withdrew with reverent silence. For a few minutes, only the soft clinking of the silverware broke the silence.
Janet delicately cut a piece of turkey and, without taking her eyes off the plate for too long, asked casually.
—What is the reason for such a buffoon?
Eugene finished cutting the meat before answering.
—He remains in this court because of a favor.
Janet raised an eyebrow slightly.
—A favor?
—Of Wednesday Addams.
The queen understood instantly.
—I see.
Eugene nodded.
—I owed him a lifetime's debt. She has decided to collect it by entrusting me with the custody of his brother as the court jester.
Sue gave a slight smile.
—That explains too much.
Eugene looked up.
—Hmm?
—His wardrobe.
Sue gracefully brought the glass to her lips before continuing.
—It has a... certainly peculiar appearance.
Janet gave a discreet smile.
—Very typical of a member of the Addams family.
The young duke didn't add a word. He continued cutting the meat with his usual calm. It was then that Janet, with the composure of someone stating an obvious fact, declared.
—You've grown fond of him.
The knife stopped abruptly. Eugene slowly raised his head.
-Sorry?
—With the jester.
—No.
The response was immediate, and harsher than usual.
—I haven't grown fond of anyone.
Sue let out a low chuckle. Eugene turned to look at her.
—Mother..
Sue exchanged a knowing glance with Janet.
—Do you remember the last jester our son had?
Janet let out a low laugh.
—How could I forget it?
Eugene frowned, alternating his gaze between the two.
—What are you talking about?
Sue rested an arm on the table.
—From the jester who served in this court when you were barely seven years old.
The young duke remained silent for a few moments. It had been so long that he had almost erased that memory from his mind.
Sue started laughing.
—He was an extraordinary man. He was a master of juggling, he told stories from all the kingdoms, he sang ballads, and he was able to play three instruments without missing a single note.
Janet nodded.
—He performed his duties with absolute excellence.
—All the nobles claimed that he was one of the best jesters they had ever known.
Sue smiled mischievously as she looked at her son.
—Everyone... except you.
Eugene discreetly looked away.
—It wasn't that big of a deal.
—What do you mean it wasn't such a big deal?— Sue laughed. —Eugene, you cried every time he showed up.
—I wasn't crying.
-Of course.
Janet intervened in a calm voice.
—The first time he acted, you hid behind me.
Sue continued.
—The second one you said made too much noise.
—The third one you said was that he talked nonstop.
Janet added with a barely contained smile:
—And the fourth...
The two queens exchanged an amused glance. Eugene slowly placed his fork on the plate.
—He was... excessively insistent.
—He was a jester,—Janet replied gently. —That was precisely the nature of his profession.
Sue shook her head while laughing.
—Finally, we had no choice but to fire him.
—Then we brought another one.
—And then another one.
—And another one.
—And another one.
Sue concluded with a burst of laughter.
—None of them managed to stay for more than a week without you demanding their departure.
Eugene put a hand to his forehead.
—I don't think it's necessary to relive such memories.
But Sue carried on as if she hadn't heard him.
—There wasn't a single aspect of them that you liked.
Janet smiled.
—Absolutely none.
Sue began counting on her fingers.
—You said they talked too much.
—That his jokes lacked humor.
—That interrupted your concentration.
Janet, the river gently.
—And once you burst into tears because one of them insisted on following you for an entire day.
Eugene hid part of his face with one hand.
—I was seven years old.
Janet continued affectionately.
—After firing that jester, we looked for many others.
Sue nodded.
—None of them managed to spark your interest.
—You preferred to spend your afternoons among your beehives.
—Or by training with me —added Janet.
Sue smiled again.
—Every time we asked you if you wished to keep a jester in the court, you answered exactly the same thing.
Eugene already sensed those words; he remained silent. Sue recited from memory.
—" I don't have time for something as absurd as a jester. "
Janet let out a laugh.
—You pronounced it with a quality unbecoming of a seven-year-old child.
Eugene exhaled slowly.
—Because that's what I believed.
Sue watched him with a mischievous expression.
—How capricious fate can be.
—What do you mean, mother?
—What you used to call "absurd" now walks behind you from morning till night...and you no longer seem to be in any hurry to get rid of it.
Eugene opened his lips, ready to reply. However, no words came out. Because, as much as he wanted to deny it, it had been several days since he had ordered Pugsley to stay away, and when the jester disappeared for a few hours, the castle seemed to lose a part of its life.
He looked down at the plate.
—That proves absolutely nothing.
Sue and Janet exchanged a discreet, knowing glance. Neither pressed the issue; there was no need.
--
The following morning dawned serene and clear. The first rays of sunlight pierced the stained-glass windows of the ducal bedchamber as Eugene finished fastening the last brooch on his suit.
His training clothes lay upon him, quite different from the finery he usually wore during audiences. They were garments of sand-colored linen, light and durable, made to allow him to move freely among the meadows and forests where he practiced his gift. With utmost calm, he fastened the leather belt around his waist and rolled up the sleeves to his forearms.
A month had passed since he had last trained under his mother's watchful eye. He longed to prove to Janet that the lessons he had learned throughout his life had not been forgotten. That the lack of control that had once led to his collapse would not be repeated. That, while the queens attended to the affairs of other kingdoms, he had not been idle.
He had practiced alone, observed the insects, and learned to control his own impatience. And that morning, more than anything else, he wished that Janet could be proud of him.
Three discreet knocks sounded on the door.
—Go ahead. —conceded the young duke.
The door opened slowly. Pugsley appeared in the doorway, his hands, as usual, hidden behind his back, his expression both innocent and suspicious. His eyes scanned the duke's figure from head to toe. He inclined his head slightly.
—My duke... why such strange colors?
Eugene finished adjusting one of the leather bracers before answering.
—They're not strangers, they're the clothes I wear during my training.
Pugsley carefully examined the simple beige tunic.
—I had never seen him without his attire.
—Because you had never accompanied me to the practice field before.
The jester took a small step towards him.
—Will you be leaving for there right now?
Eugene nodded, and contrary to what he himself would have expected weeks ago, a discreet enthusiasm was revealed in his voice.
—That's right. I'll train with my mother; it's been a month since we last crossed paths.
Pugsley smiled curiously.
—Have they been training for a long time?
—Since I was just a child. My mother was the one who instilled in me discipline even before my gift. She maintains that power without control is nothing but a danger to the one who possesses it.
As he spoke, Eugene picked up a small case where he kept various herbs used to attract certain species of insects.
—Each training session is a tradition among us. It's not just about strengthening our abilities; it's a way of remembering that the gift should never govern the recipient. We are the ones who must govern it.
Pugsley listened with unusual interest.
Her eyes shone with genuine admiration.
—Majesty Queen Janet seems very stern.
Eugene gave a slight smile.
—She is, and I'm grateful for it. If she hadn't been so demanding of me from a young age... I probably would never have learned to control my bugs.
Pugsley remained thoughtful for a few moments. Then that familiar mischievous expression returned to his face. Eugene recognized it immediately.
She sighed with resignation.
—No.
The jester blinked.
—Excuse me?
—Don't make such a joke.
—But I haven't said a word yet.
—That's precisely why.
Pugsley cleared his throat precisely.
—If your insects obey all your commands...— He paused dramatically. —...Do you hold a council when a bee arrives late to the swarm?
Silence reigned in the room. Eugene gazed at him without changing his expression. Pugsley continued, convinced that he could still improve his idea.
—And the punishment is to forbid him from visiting the flowers for a week?
The duke remained motionless. The jester began to lose confidence.
—...Wasn't it ingenious?
Eugene closed his eyes for a moment, slowly shaking his head. When he opened them again, he raised his eyes to the ceiling with visible resignation, however... much to his dismay... the corner of his lips barely curved.
It was a small, almost imperceptible smile. Pugsley remained motionless.
—...You smiled!!!
Eugene immediately regained his usual composure.
—You're wrong.
—No, my duke. I saw it with my own eyes!!!
—It was an involuntary gesture.
—It was a smile...
The young duke took his training cloak and walked to the door. As he opened it, he replied with feigned severity.
—Your jokes continue to be deplorable.
Pugsley smiled contentedly.
—But they have had an effect!
Eugene did not respond, he simply left the room.
And, although he would never have had the courage to admit it out loud, he was finding with increasing frequency that those clumsy antics of the jester were beginning to brighten days that, until a few months ago, had passed shrouded in an overly solemn silence.
--
The morning dew still lingered on the meadows when Janet and Eugene took their places in the clearing where, for years, mother and son had tested the limits of their gift. At a safe distance, in the shade of an old oak tree, Sue and Pugsley waited, watching in respectful silence.
Janet gazed intently at her son. When she spoke, her voice retained the firmness of a sovereign, but also the concern of a mother.
—If pain occurs, you will end training immediately.
Eugene tilted his head slightly.
—I will do so.
—I don't want a polite answer. I want your word.
The young duke held Janet's gaze.
—I give you my word, mother.
The queen nodded. Without adding anything else, she slowly raised a hand.
The training began. At first, everything proceeded as usual. A faint buzzing sound began to spread across the field; bees descended from the trees, beetles emerged from the bushes, dragonflies crossed the air like crystal arrows, while butterflies fluttered among them.
Janet guided her insects with precise movements. Eugene responded with equal skill, deflecting each attack with a serenity she had never seen in him before. Pride discreetly surfaced on the queen's face.
—You've made progress.
Eugene didn't respond. His attention remained fixed on the swarm. Then he took a deep breath. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, something had changed.
An unwavering determination burned in her eyes. She extended both hands, and the air began to vibrate. From all corners of the forest came new buzzing sounds, not only from the nearby trees, but also from the distant meadows, the hills, the streams, the very heart of the forest.
Countless insects responded to her call. Thick-shelled beetles, butterflies, wasps, mantises, cicadas, winged ants, spiders descending from the trees. Even species Janet barely remembered seeing in her lifetime. The sky seemed to darken beneath that immense living vortex.
Pugsley stepped forward.
—Eugene...
Sue stopped smiling. Janet frowned. This was no longer an exercise; it was a demonstration of power, and a dangerous one.
The insects began to swirl around Eugene, slowly at first, then faster and faster, until they formed a gigantic whirlwind that completely enveloped the young duke. The wind lifted his cloak, and his curls whipped violently.
Janet took a step forward.
—Enough, Eugene!
The boy tried to lower his hands, but nothing happened. His breathing began to ragged.
—No...
The whirlpool continued to grow, more insects kept arriving, as if nature itself had decided to answer their call.
—¡Eugene!
He made a desperate effort to break the bond. He clenched his teeth so hard his jaw trembled.
—I-I can't...!
For the first time in many years... Janet saw genuine fear in her son's eyes. The queen took another step forward.
—Don't fight them! Break the bond immediately!
-I'm trying!
But the gift had ceased to obey him. The swarm roared around him like a living whirlwind. The insects no longer responded solely to his will; they responded to the overwhelming power he himself had awakened.
Eugene brought a hand to his temple; a sharp pain shot through his head. Far more intense than any he had endured during his childhood training. His breathing became ragged, his vision began to blur. The voices of those around him seemed to come from a great distance.
—EUGENE!!!! —Sue exclaimed in anguish.
Pugsley instinctively took a step toward him. Janet reached out to stop him.
—Don't come any closer!
The swarm's force could sweep him away. Eugene hesitated, his legs began to give way, yet he raised a hand again, determined to regain control of his gift. It was useless. The pain was unbearable.
-..Mom...
She barely managed to utter that word before all strength left her body. Her eyes closed, and she fell face down on the damp grass. The instant she lost consciousness, the immense whirlwind dissipated. The insects ceased their dance, one after another taking flight, returning to the forest, the meadows, and the trees from which they had come.
The buzzing slowly faded away... Until silence reigned once more over the field.
—¡Eugene!
Janet was the first to reach him. She knelt beside her son and quickly took one of his wrists. She checked for a pulse, and when she found it firm and steady, she let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Sue arrived just a moment later, her voice trembling.
—Are you breathing?
Janet nodded without taking her eyes off Eugene's face.
-Yeah.
Pugsley fell to his knees on the other side of the young duke. His face had lost all color, his hands were trembling.
—Will he wake up...?
Janet slowly raised her gaze to the jester. Her face held the mixture of a mother's relief and a teacher's sternness.
—He will wake up.
He remained silent for a short time. Then he looked again at his unconscious son.
—But when I open my eyes...
Her voice acquired an unwavering firmness.
—We will have to have a very serious conversation.
Because today, Eugene didn't just lose control of his gift. What he did was far worse. He tried to prove he was stronger than he actually was... and he almost paid for it with his own life.