To His Hell and Back-Chapter 291: A Child With A Lot to Shoulder-II

Morgana had entered the castle with her chin tipped. Everyone knew who she was, being a maid who the king brought around, her name and face was a familiar facts to everyone in the castle. The gossip began to drown the castle as they questioned how could the king took a concubine when the Queen was pregnant with another child? Others excused the King, questioning why the Queen was so insistent in not allowing the King to have other women in his harem and how they praised the King for disobeying the Queen’s words, reasoning it with how the King needs to show the Queen his power over her.

The words said by the ministers and servants were in no way words that a child should hear but Cassius, the only royal child of the castle had heard everything clearly.

He understood at once that his father bringing in another woman means that his own mother’s position was now in peril, hanging by a thin thread. After that day, his mother had also began to shut herself in her own room. Perhaps it was anger? Perhaps it was sadness? Cassius couldn’t tell.

Whe he had entered his mother’s room that evening, she saw her standing in front of the window between the dark. She seemed to be holding into a red spined book, muttering something to herself, "...broken promises..."

"Mother," Cassius called and for a while his mother stared at the window until she stopped and turned her head around, showcasing a perfect smile.

"My Cas," she spoke lovingly, stretching her hands toward him and seeing the gesture, Cassius walked toward her, reaching out his own hands to hug her waist.

Cassius had always thought that even as a child his expression was always so calculated and cold but it appears that he was wrong. Now seeing his little self hugging his mother, he could see how delighted he seemed, how his smile widened, how his boyish charm sparkled.

He really did loved his mother.

"Are you alright, mother?" Little Cas asked and his mother smoothened his inky locks.

"Of course I am," she answered, "I was just startled. I thought that at least him, at least he, wouldn’t break his promise. He thought the words I said that day were simply a joke."

"Words you say that day?" Little Cas innocently picked her words.

"Cas," she whispered, "Do you love mother?"

It was an odd question. Odd because such question that sounded so funerable had came from none other from his mother— the woman who always believe in not showing any weakness as showing one means showing the way to fall to death.

"I do," he answered after a brief pause. In the end of the day, this woman is his mother, the one who cared for him, the one who brought him to this world. She was strict but she never forgot to care or look after him. Compared to his father who he could only see everytime there was a party in the castle, his mother was the only family member he truly felt a bond with in this castle.

"Do you want to be stronger?" His mother asked him and although earlier question stunned him because of how unusual for him that his mother had asked such question. This time the question stunned him as it wasn’t such a difficult question for him to answer, and how his mother would have known what he would reply yet still asked such question.

"Of course I want to be stronger," little Cassius was firm since child and it seemed to have made his mother relieved.

Although that day Cassius thought his mother would slowly return to her usual self, his mother showed a complete opposite reaction. She seemed weaker, fragile, easily annoyed and upset at the smallest thing. But Cassius didn’t mind any of that— how could he? He loves his mother after all, so when his mother was in such a state, pale in comparison to her usual haughty and prideful nature, Cassius cared for her like no one before.

It slowly helped his mother to regain her sanity and Cassius was relieved to see the small changes.

But no one was allowed to live in peace in the castle. No one.

Upon the rumors that his mother was healed in her heart and had began to resume her usual work in the castle to govern the land, it ruffled somme feathers— especially Morgana’s.

It seemed she knew that his mother would be upset upon finding out that the King had brought in another woman as she has a prideful nature. She could even turn insane from the anger and frustration which Morgana was about to use against the Queen.

Much to her disappointment, the Queen was stronger than that and with her son, she was able to pull herself together.

That day, little Cassius had ended his training in swordsmanship early. It was because the sky had began to rain and the dark clouds that hung over Versailles was far too unsuitable for him to continue his training for safety reasons. He stared at the sky while the knight who had taught him his lessons praised his talent to no end.

"Your Highness, Her Majesty requests your presence for lunch."

The moment the words left the servant’s lips, Cassius’s face lit up with a boyish delight rare for someone of his lineage. Without hesitation, he darted toward the dining hall, still in his scuffed training clothes, his boots leaving faint traces of dust along the polished floor.

The doors opened to reveal the Queen seated at the head of the long dining table, her posture graceful and regal as always, but her gaze warm the instant it met her son’s. A soft smile curved her lips as she rose, her crimson eyes gleaming not with command—but affection.

Cassius bounded over with the enthusiasm of a child and wrapped his arms around her waist. The Queen let out a quiet laugh, embracing him tightly and stroking his tousled hair.

"What have I always told you not to do?" she asked, the admonishment so gentle it felt more like a lullaby.

"To come to the table in my training clothes," he replied sheepishly, but his smile only widened.

Her red gaze softened further as she cupped his cheek. "But today is an exception. A little reward."

He blinked, then tilted his head. "But my birthday is tomorrow."

"And that’s why today is better," she said with a light chuckle, guiding him to his seat. "Tomorrow you’ll have to smile and play the perfect prince in front of the whole court. But today—today, you’re just my boy."

She gestured grandly at the feast laid out before them—an array of all his favorite dishes, still steaming, lovingly arranged. The scent of honey-glazed roast, warm bread, and herbs filled the air.

"Come now," she said, sitting beside him instead of at the head of the table. "Let’s eat before it grows cold. For today, the world can wait. Just a little."

And for a fleeting moment, within those walls, Cassius felt like a child again—seen, cherished, and untouched by the cruel weight of titles.

Ah. How cruel. How cruel was this sight.

Cassius knew everything— he remembered what was going to happen— what he would see and what kind of expression his mother would have after this.

It was far too cruel as this was Cassius’s worse memory throughout his life, the turning point in which his mother had decided fully to go after power even if it means his life would be in danger instead.

Cassius watched as his little self excitedly sat down and reached out his hand to take the dishes off the larger plate. How he went to drink his favorite pomogranate juice while looking over his mother who was smiling while watching over him.

Then suddenly— like an arrow shot in the darkness no one was prepared for— his body fell forward in a loud slump.

Little Cassius topple over, his body falling slack like a doll filled with rice. His mother who was smiling suddenly turned pale. The shock in her face was so horrifying that even now Cassius couldn’t look into it without frowning as though he was the one who had been stabbed.

He then saw how his mother gasp and ran toward him who had coughed puddle of blood. Her voice broke as she screamed for help, yelling for anyone to come to protect her son who had been poisoned.

Ah so cruel.

Cassius could see as his little self was carried away how anger had took over his mother’s face. Suddenlly something stronger seemed to had took over her anger, twisting it into something so deadly, something that seemed so certain of another method- one where it would ensure her beloved son would not die. Would never die.

That was the last time his mother had been kind towards him.

Cassius... knew that. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

Darkness suddenly took over Cassius’s sight but this time, he didn’t feel so blinded by the darkness or that his consciousness had been swept away into nothingness. Instead the darkness felt lucid. He could walk, he could see his hands and felt as if he could even touch this field of darkness like it was simply a large dark plane.

"Hi!"

Cassius turned around at the small chirpy voice that came from his back. He tilted his head when he saw nothing only to hear a louder bubbly voice of a child, "I’m down! Down mister!"

Sighing, Cassius curiously looked below, sure enough only to find a small child looking at him with curious pair of blue eyes. The child’s hair was blonde with freckles over his soft cheeks. He seemed like he was still at the age where he just learned how to use sword, maybe at the age of seven.

Cassius doubted that this was his dream and that child was simply a creature that he had dreamt. So who is this child?

An appiration of his power?

"Wow, you are as smart as Balpharor said," the child stare at him amazed, his mouth wide in a round shape while his eyes were wide in shock. "He told me that my next master will be strong and powerful— smart and handsome! Better than him!"

"So you are my power," Cassius answered the child who seemed to beam upon hearing how correct he was.

"I am Bubbly," said the little creature, "Balpharor’s power in a form of consciousness. I use to help him with a lot of things! But I can’t speak in the real world so I usually speak to Balpharor when he closed his eyes."

"Yet I have never spoken to you," said Cassius, "Why?"

Perhaps because the power was currently in the body of a child, it was difficult for Cassius to preceive it as nothing more than a child. Besides the power didn’t seem all that bright, like a child who could easily be tricked so its candy would be stolen.