The Tyrant's Pet
862 Sickening
[ Queen's Palace ]
Illusions and different abilities that had elements of such were a part of reality Aries was forced to accept. When she met Miguel for the first time, Aries already thought she was under a powerful illusion. She assumed she was simply seeing things; a part of her enemy's tactics to distract her. However, the more she thought about it, the more her eagerness to know the truth grow.
From another perspective, Aries didn't need this truth. But as the saying goes, the truth would set you free. Therefore, she wanted to know the truth behind Miguel and why he had the same face as her brother.
The sketch might not give her the truth she was trying to uncover, but it would surely give her an idea of things. Hopefully.
Aries sat quietly on the divan in the queen's chamber. Her eyes were blank as if she was deep in thought, but that wasn't the case. The shine in her eyes was the most obvious indicator she was mentally present.
Knock Knock.
Aries didn't move a muscle when a faint knock from the outside window caressed her ears. Even when the wind suddenly blew her hair from behind, she sat still.
"I heard you requested Samael for a sketch." After a moment, Abel's voice erupted in the quiet room, along with the sound of his light footsteps. "How was it, darling?"
Upon his last remarks, his hot breath tickled the shell of her ear. This time, Aries blinked ever so slowly. She turned her head to the side, meeting his glowing crimson eyes almost instantly.
"Words reached you quite slow," she remarked softly. "I was expecting you since I made the request."
Abel smiled sweetly. "I was preoccupied, darling," he said, turning around and propping his bottom against the backrest of the divan. He planted his hands on either side of him, eyes still on her.
"So?" his brows rose as curiosity swirled in his eyes. "Did the sketch answer the mystery in your head?"
Aries pressed her lips into a thin line, taking a deep breath. She looked away, only to bend over to pick up the envelope on the coffee table before her.
"Here. Take a look." The envelope was clipped in between her fore and middle finger, handing it leisurely to Abel. "And tell me what you think."
Abel didn't accept the envelope as he stared into her eyes. Shrugging, he accepted the envelope and opened it. He unfolded the piece of paper inside, raising his brows as he gazed at the detailed sketch Samael drew.
In one glance, anyone who would look at the sketch would forget the reason behind it. The sketch was too detailed, as if the person's face was pasted on it.
"What a talent, indeed," mused Abel, nodding approvingly while his eyes were fixed on the sketch. "No wonder Samael was able to feed the entire family with his work. I would spend a fortune just to get a piece of his work."
"What do you see?" she asked, staring at his side profile.
"Hmm?" Abel reluctantly peeled his gaze from the sketch to Aries.
"Have you met Miguel Rothschild? Is that his face?"
"Yes. I bumped into him today." His tone was indifferent. "Did this answer the questions in your head?"
"That's what my brother looks like." Aries didn't beat around the bush, making him furrow his brows mildly. "Just looking at the sketch and without the knowledge of Miguel's existence, there's no doubt this is Davien. And that baffles me even more, Abel."
"Was it truly possible that someone doesn't just resemble a person, but looks exactly the same?" she continued, releasing all the questions and doubt she had been holding back. "I am at my wit's end. I thought the sketch will give me some answers, but it only left more questions."
"What should I do now, Abel?" she breathed out, biting her inner lower lip as conflict swirled in her eyes.
Abel remained silent, raising his hand to cup her lean cheek. His thumb gently brushed her cheek while his lips parted.
"They don't look the same, darling." His words replaced her conflicted expression with confusion. "You're the one who baffles me, Aries."
"What do you mean they don't look alike?" Aries's brows knitted in disbelief. "You said it yourself, Abel. That's what Miguel looks like. That's what you and I see. Are you doubting me?"
"No, darling."
"Then, why would you say they don't look alike?" Aries brushed his hand away from her face and then pointed at the sketch. "That, Abel. That face is Davien's face."
"No."
"What?"
"That's not what my brother-in-law looks like."
Aries's breath hitched for a moment, surprised at his remarks. "How did you know what Davien looks like? He was already dead when we met."
"I've seen him." Abel blinked, raising a finger to poke her forehead. "In your dreams. I've seen him there."
Her eyes shook slightly as her pupils slowly widened.
"When you came to the Haimirich Empire, your nightmares kept haunting you. Whenever I sleep beside you, you keep dragging me in those nightmares as if you wanted me to know you." He peeled his finger from her forehead, planting his hand on the backrest again. "There were times I'd stand on the balcony where I could see everything unfold. Sometimes, in the middle of the battlefield, standing on the side while everyone falls every passing second. I do not want to go through the details and relive the memories we both painstakingly tried to bury in the deepest part of our brains."
"The point I am making is, I have seen Davien, and he looks nothing like Miguel Rothschild." Abel raised the sketch and looked at it again. "No matter what angle I look, this is not what my late brother-in-law looks like."
He tilted his head to the side, assessing the sketch before him. This sketch was definitely Miguel Rothschild.
"Hah…" after a second, a dry laugh escaped Abel's mouth. He set his attention back to Aries, whose expression was a mix of confusion and shock. "I have a theory, but this might truly anger you to a level you never even know existed."
"What is it?" her voice was shaky and the sweat on her back turned cold. "What is this theory you're talking about?"
Aries and Abel stared at each other without saying anything for an entire minute. When his lips parted, her eyes dilated and her complexion turned pale, making her lungs constrict. The more she listened to him, the more she felt sick to her stomach.
It was sickening.
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