After leaving the council room, Alaric headed straight to his father's chamber, followed by the chamberlain, who used to be his father's. The King's chamber. Out of respect for his father and his reign, he had chosen to stay at his previous chamber, the chamber for the crown prince. And he has no plan to move to the king's chamber at all.
The chamberlain opened the door for him, and Alaric stood at the center of the room. He analyzed every piece of furniture, every fabric, and every piece of cutlery present in the room. Chamberlain quietly stood a short distance away from him with his shoulders straight.
"Make sure to leave the condition of this chamber as it is. We'll need to do a thorough investigation later." Alaric's sharp command rang out.
"As you wish, Your Majesty!" Chamberlain answered respectfully. His head lowered slightly.
"Also. Summon the steward for me right now."
Chamberlain left the room immediately following Alaric's order. Alaric moves closer to the nightstand beside his father's bed. A jug of water and a glass, and a cup intact on it.
His gaze zeroed in on it, lingering far too long. As if he was trying to dissect every metal piece and the paint on them.
There was nothing out of the ordinary with those utensils. A standard necessity, yet something about them felt off. Different. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he was confident about his doubt.
Especially the cup; the cup had been very dear to his father. Alaric's mother specifically had it made for his father. So his father cherished that piece of metal with every fiber of his being. Especially after his mother's passing.
But the cup that lay on the table doesn't look how he used to remember. Without thinking twice, he picked it up and hid it in the pocket in the side of his robe.
"You called for me, Your Majesty!" Alaric turned around to face the source of the voice.
An old man stood at the threshold of the door. Alaric nodded his head silently, allowing him in. The old man stepped in as Chamberlain stood outside guarding the door.
"Lord steward! What was the state of my father's appetite before he passed away?" Alaric got straight to the point.
"His majesty's appetite had significantly gone down in the past few months. He mentioned indigestion and abdominal pain frequently, so his majesty's personal chef made some light and easily digestible meals for him. Even then his majesty was getting weaker and weaker, so we meticulously prepped nutritional but soft meals for him." Alaric observed the old man before him.
No stuttering, no avoiding his gaze. Not a single hint of fear in his eyes nor the extra relaxed posture. This man wasn't lying. And he seemed well versed with the former king's needs.
"You prepped my father's meal yourself?" At Alaric's question. The steward shook his head in denial.
Alaric raised his eyebrows, surprised. He clearly remembered the man in front of him being in charge of cooking personally for both of his parents years ago.
"If not you, who did it then?"
Alaric noticed the steward's face visibly softened at that question.
"Althea! She took on cooking for His Majesty personally 4 years ago. She was mainly appointed by his majesty himself."
That was news for Alaric. He hadn't known that. For someone to be personally chosen by the king, it must be someone that the king might have trusted.
However, Alaric wasn't the one to trust someone, especially not the one his father trusted. His father never realized that he was surrounded by parasites all his life. The only one who could see through it other than Alaric himself was his mother, Queen Rowena.
The queen always used to warn her husband against a few people that the king considered his closest. As long as she lived, she managed to keep him away from the harmful intentions of said people. But after she passed away, those opportunist people around the king grew more powerful and vindictive, including his own courtiers.
"Would you like Althea summoned, Your Majesty?" Chamberlain questioned from the doorway.
Alaric tilted his head, and after a few seconds, he gave a single nod. He then turned to the steward.
"Thank you for your service, Lord Steward! You may leave now."
Alaric settled down on the sofa in the corner of the room. He leaned back and threw his head back against the back of the sofa, closing his eyes. His mind clouded with thousands of questions. When he sat like that carelessly, he looked his age. Just a young boy of 20, and the responsibility of such a huge empire weighing down on his shoulders.
He looked older for his age, though. Being born as the only heir to such a powerful empire, he couldn't afford to look young or naive or kind. He had seen what the kindness did to his father. He was no fool. His father didn't die because of a natural cause. He was killed. By someone closer to him.
He suspected poisoning the moment he heard of his father's death back in Draevor. Instead, he was told that he passed away in his sleep. He couldn't believe it then; he certainly doesn't believe it now.
"Your Majesty!?" A soft feminine voice sounded, followed by a soft knock on the door.
Alaric opened his eyes and tilted his head in that direction, staring straight at her. A young girl barely 20 stood at the door. Her long brown hair was braided, she had a simple gown on, and she had big brown eyes that looked like those of a deer. A flicker of something crossed his eyes.
She shifted on her feet, clearly uncomfortable to be in there. You could tell by the hesitation in her eyes, the pursing of her lips, and the restless fidgeting of her fingers that she was uncomfortable. Usually Alaric would call those signs a sign of guilt.
But not with her; she genuinely looked out of place. Given her lack of curtsy or bow, she clearly hasn't interacted much with people, let alone a royal. Why would his father hire someone like her? Such a clueless, naive girl.
"Come in and introduce yourself." She slowly walked in.
"My name is Althea Vallory. I am—I used to be his majesty's personal chef." She answered calmly, taking her time.
Alaric got up from the couch and walked up to her. She widened her eyes before quickly looking down. Alaric stood right in front of her, staring her down.
"Personal chef, you say. But I don't remember seeing you or knowing you, Ms. Vallory." Alaric inquired, examining her face. He was catching sight of any change in her expression at the mention of unfamiliarity between them. However, she showed none.
In fact, she actually looks up at him without any trace of confusion in her eyes.
"His majesty once visited a teahouse I used to work at. So he later invited me to be his chef." She explained without any hesitation.
Contrary to her awkward and stiff body language, she was well-spoken. No pausing, no filler words, no oversharing, nothing at all. Much to his surprise, it impressed Alaric. He liked surprises, especially when they're this pretty and this soft.
So breakable.
"How long have you been working here, and how well were you aware of my father's health condition?" A somber look crossed Althea's eyes at the mention of the late king's health.
She saw the late king's health getting worse day by day right in front of her eyes. The helplessness and despair she felt when she tried to do everything in her power to help were incomparable.
"I was aware of his majesty's deteriorating health. His majesty used to fall ill very often these past few months. So I used to cook him highly nutritional food, but he was having trouble digesting his meal. So I switched to softer meals but still rich in nutrition. I even gave him some herbal medicines but only after consulting with the royal physician." She recounted every event confidently.
Now Alaric understood why his father chose her as his chef. She was extremely efficient and reliable and certainly was good at what she was doing.
"Can someone give my father anything to eat or drink without your knowledge and without the steward's confirmation?"
Althea's eyes narrow at that. It was simply impossible. Even the water he drank was checked thoroughly.
"Not that I know of, Your Majesty! Quite frankly, it's not possible for someone to approach his majesty and offer him anything." Alaric nodded his head. She made sense.
Compared to the council members, the very few people who were reliable and competent in the palace were the chamberlain and the steward, both of whom had to be the people present around him and his meal.
"Although his majesty was pretty secretive about his wine, which was one thing he consumed that wasn't constantly checked." Althea stared right at Alaric as she said it.
He stared back at her. The corner of his lips tugged upwards at her implications. She was suspecting that wine.
Althea quickly averted her gaze after she realized she had overshared. She wasn't planning on telling him that. But she could also tell that somehow both Alaric and she were on the same page regarding the king's death. She also didn't believe that he died without any foul play involved.
But unbeknownst to her, she was one step ahead, as she had a suspect.
But Althea wouldn't tell Alaric that yet.
"You may leave now, Ms. Vallory." Althea jolted as Alaric whispered in her ear. She turned her head to look at him.
He had leaned down, and his face was extremely close to her. He looked at her lips and back at her eyes. Her eyes went round, and she quickly stepped back.
"Goodbye! Your Majesty." She dramatically bowed and scurried out of the room.
A smirk grazed his lips as Alaric stared at her retreating back.
I finally found you, Althea.