An Unappetizing Truth

Breakfast was as normal as Chiffon could ask for. The glistening butter upon toasted croissant halves invoked memories of a mild sweetness between layers of crunchiness. She had her choice of eggs, scrambled or sunny-side up, of which she chose the former for their fluffiness.

That was her normal morning mood, an excitement to stir her from being wrapped in the textures of her silky sheets and soft bed. Even the slightly greasy sausage links couldn’t gunk up her mood, as she nibbled upon them in small bites like a bunny with its carrot. And before long, the plate would be polished off and Chiffon en route to her next destination.

Yet, this morning was different.

Her food tasted undeniably off and utterly unappetizing. No, a new chef had not taken up residence in the castle. Her food looked as visually stunning as it always did. And there was even the sweet perfume of mashed berry jam that she could generously slather upon her croissant, should her sweet tooth be calling for it.

Yet, her fork hesitantly poked against the fluffy eggs, almost expecting the airiness of them to deflate like a balloon if she stabbed hard enough. Her attention was so fixed upon that to avoid the gaze of another pair of eyes sitting across from her.

It is said that good company gives the best spice to a meal. The opposite could be said for bad company.

Chiffon sighed for the fifth time as she put down her fork and turned to the man intently watching her every movement, his own meal having been polished off already like a starving orphan. Apparently, Caramello had no need to enjoy his food, as the main course was before his eyes. That made Chiffon lose her appetite completely, the nearby hunger overpowering her own.

The keen interest that reflected from his pupils from her simply bringing a forkful to her mouth made her pause. It felt undeniably suspicious and positively unnerving.

“Did you poison my food?” she asked before the first sigh, when such behavior was merely odd.

“Of course not. I am your knight. It is my bound duty to see that your life is well protected. And for that reason, I must be aware of your surroundings at all times.”

Chiffon sighed and hurriedly plopped the morsel into her mouth, which elicited a sudden reaction from Caramello. The possibility of poison grew in her mind. Her eyes darted around to see that there were no less than ten familiar servants present. Surely, he couldn’t have slipped in poison under all of their gazes.

As Chiffon chewed, she found nothing off about the taste. The eggs were eggs, toast was toast, and the sausage, slightly unsavory. However, it all felt flat. The air of the lively mood had been sucked up by Caramello who was puffed up with anticipation of her next actions.

She almost choked. Even if there was no actual poison, the snake watching her like innocent prey gave off its own venom. She sighed again.

“Why are you doing this to me? Do I interest you that much?”

“Who wouldn’t be interested in this kingdom’s royal maiden? A girl who causes the very ground to quake as she tramples upon it. I know of plenty a man who wouldn’t mind his back broken by a beauty such as yourself.”

If Chiffon had been drinking tea at the moment, she would have caused a scene. But fortunately, his gaze from before had cooled her appetite. She sighed again, this time in frustration. The words from his mouth almost seemed like a compliment, until he started spouting such nonsense.

“Beauty, is that the only reason that you have been staring at me nonstop? I can’t imagine how it is possible for you to not have learned basic manners not to do such things. Do you not see how uncomfortable it makes me?”

“Oh, but if it were only for courtship, then I would have long stopped such actions. I am well aware of the disgust it invokes, but such actions are done purposefully, regardless.”

Chiffon was ready to stab her fork between his eyes, but she gently laid it down, without so much as a clink, to keep herself from doing so. Instead, she chose diplomacy.

“For what purpose would you have to knowingly create friction between us? Did you not say that my life should be well protected? If you keep doing that, I’m liable to hurl myself out a window!”

Caramello chuckled at that.

“So it seems that the Princess has a bit of humor in her. I shall take note of that. Jokes aside, watching your every movement gives me a better understanding of your habits and tendencies. It is not simply enough to be around you as your knight. I must endeavor to predict the dangers that could befall you.”

Caramello plucked a flower from the clear vase on the dining table. Its bright red petals gave vibrant color to the setting. Taking it in hand, Caramello examined it carefully like he had done with Chiffon.

“Beautiful, just like you. Beloved and placed as the centerpiece for everyone to see. It would be foolish for someone to simply walk up and pluck the petals off it. That would draw the ire of everyone present, would it not?”

Caramello’s fingers reached right up to the petals, stopping just before them. The bit of drama in his speech drew Chiffon’s attention. Then, he brought the flower down and leaned over from his chair, talking in a hushed voice.

“But not everyone present knows the intricacies of what makes the flower beautiful, what keeps it alive and thriving. Was it grown with care, or left to thrive in the wild? Even as it sits in the vase, there is no knowing what hidden secrets it possesses.”

Caramello brought the flower before Chiffon’s eyes, peeling back the petals slightly. Before she could question what he was doing, a bug flew out from the center, escaping the disruption that was brought upon it. She hugged the back of her chair, surprised by the secret inhabitant, making Caramello smirk like a magician after a successful trick.

“And Princess, if one does not know the environment in which this flower is placed in, how would he notice when something strange happens?”

Caramello took the saltshaker into his hand and dumped its contents into the vase. The crystals dissolved in the water, his misdeed now invisible save for the moment that it was performed. Putting the stem of the flower back into the vase, he dramatically wiped his hands of the evidence.

The flower would no doubt wilt over time, the salt serving as a slow-acting poison. And even if it wilted a little bit earlier, most people wouldn’t bother to take notice. Only the person changing the flowers each day would. As it was their routine to be aware of such things.

“And that… is why I must check every bit of you. So that I know if something feels off.” Caramello dipped his finger into the water of the vase before bringing it to his tongue and licking it. With an exaggerated flinch of disgust, he flicked the rest of the moisture from his fingertip and sat back in his chair. “Worry not, my surveillance will aid you in the long run, even if you find it unsettling at this time.”

Sir Try Hard’s logic was sound, showing how his arduous efforts were part of his plan. But that didn’t give her any comfort during her meal. Rather, it left a salty taste in her mouth that made every bite over-seasoned. Her mood had grown worse since this morning.

After all, she had just been beaten at words as well. She got up from her chair and left the room.

§ § § § §

Clack, clack, clack.

The sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, a signal to all that the Princess was rather annoyed with her current situation. But her’s were not alone, for another pair of footsteps ran adjacent, the tone off by an eighth of a beat.

The fact that those steps synchronized so closely to hers was another point of contention, like they were deliberately matching its pace to hers. Chiffon didn’t need to turn back to feel Caramello’s intentions.

His distance remained the same, ten paces behind her. The reflection from the passing windows told her so. The two of them marched onward, silent save for her steps and the ones shadowing them. The occasional guard they passed by didn’t bother to comment upon the fuming princess’s expression; they knew that it was pointless, and possibly hazardous, to interject. Chiffon couldn’t wait to reach her father’s office and let out her frustrations.

Upon reaching it, she made a few light taps before throwing it open. Her frustration got the better of her, but a little rudeness could be understandable. She had dealt with it all morning. Her eyes fell upon the large man lounging in a cushy chair, papers in hand. A King’s work started early in the morning, with audiences later to prepare for, so the chance of interrupting guests was unlikely.

“Father, could you please reconsider Sir Caramello as my knight! I cannot bear the mere presence of him for much longer!”

The large man looked up from his papers, neat piles carefully arranged in stacks. The royal coat of arms, a lion’s jaw agape as it vied for the sun, hung upon the wall behind him. Several swords rested beside it, and combined with the sparse furniture, they gave off the ambiance of a militaristic ruler who rarely dabbled in extravagances.

King Vaniglia looked between his daughter and Caramello, who stepped forward but remained two paces to the right and behind the Princess. He gave a simple bow in respect, displaying nothing but proper manners.

“My dear Chiffon, do you not think your decision is quite hasty? The sun hasn’t even crossed the heavens on the first day.”

“It does not take long to find a person wholly incompatible and purposefully disrespectful! What manner of person would enter the room of a sleeping girl unannounced? The very thought of it brings about ill schemes!”

Immediately, the King’s face contorted to a look of surprise, a good sign that things were going Chiffon’s way. Freedom from Sir Try Hard’s weirdness was close at hand. Her heart bubbled with anticipation. But then, Caramello stepped forward.

“If you may excuse my interjection, I was not aware that such a thing was forbidden.”

Chiffon’s jaw figuratively dropped as she turned towards him. “Not aware? Isn’t it common sense to respect the privacy of others? Are you daft in the head?!”

“Well… excuse me for not understanding the customs of royalty, but I figured that one more person out of many keeping watch on you wasn’t going to hurt.”

“Customs of royalty?! What are-” Chiffon’s words were caught in her throat as she digested the latter part of Caramello’s statement. “One of many? I do not-”

At that moment, Caramello’s face lit up and his brows twitched upwards, as if a revelation struck him.

“Oh? Don’t tell me that you weren’t aware of the other guards keeping watch while in hiding?”

He took a step forward, tilting his head to the side to gaze at Chiffon’s face. In a panic, she took a step back, a lump of anxiety balling in her stomach at the realization that she truly did not know what he was talking about.

Guards? Where? I have always gone on my trips unsupervised. I do not need someone watching over me!

But Caramello’s eyes shot down that confidence. Pity – he was pitying her ignorance! Her gaze darted toward her father shakingly, hoping for some rejection to the words of a con man. That was what she had concluded of Caramello, a snake trying to slither his way out of a tricky situation.

But the King simply cast his gaze off to the side. Guilty. Like he had been found out. And as further proof to drag such things into light, Caramello gazed around the room and pointed at a few locations. Eyes followed where his finger stopped, but even squinting yielded no answers. Chiffon found nothing amiss.

“You can come out now. Your cover is blown,” Caramello then said, a smile on his face.

All at once, the textures of the room seemed to shift. Five ladies dressed in skintight clothing appeared. Chiffon could only see their eyes, focused. Dark as the midnight, their attire barely moved as they stepped forward, like the rustling of wind would fall silent if it struck them. Not a single sound was emitted as they lined up before the Princess. They must have all possessed a blessing for disguise. And they could have all been twins for all she knew; only their eyes poked out from their dark clothing.

“F-Father, who are they?” Chiffon asked hesitantly, but the answer seemed obvious. Caramello had already solved the case.

With a deep sigh, King Vaniglia stood up from his chair and said, “They are your personal guards, hidden from sight to give you some sense of freedom. What? Did you think that I would let my only daughter roam the countryside and face fearsome monsters all alone? I had them follow you out of concern, but asked them to respect your independence….”

I totally thought you did…

Chiffon’s face was the definition of flabbergasted. For four years now, she had traveled the nearby countryside, thinking that she was having a solo adventure. And she felt proud that nothing bad had come of it. Yet…

“Father, have they been protecting me from harm all this time?”

With a single nod in reply, Chiffon’s world shattered. Her knees almost buckled. And vertigo edged toward her stomach. Fortunately, she hadn’t eaten much.

There were times when she had close calls, but then, things seemingly worked to her advantage. An underestimated beast growing suddenly lax in its attacks, finding hastily carved signs while lost in the thickets of Schonberg, and perhaps, that time she fainted from the poisonous flora of Valencia Heights. She had believed that good fortune and perseverance had put her through such trials, but if someone had secretly lent her a hand, all the gears suddenly fell in place.

Chiffon approached the five women, asking them to speak their names in sequence.

“Lala.”

“Lila.”

“Lulu.”

“Leia.”

“Lola.”

They did as commanded and nothing more. Chiffon could feel a blanket of awkward silence placed between them, as she had expected a bit more chatter. But it seemed that the La-Li-Lu-Le-Lo squad had little interest in topics of conversation.

“I-I see….”

Chiffon gracefully backed away, thankful that these ghost-like presences were not a fit of delirium that she was thrown into. She turned back to the perpetrator of this situation. The all-knowing grin of Sir Try Hard had been earned. She could do nothing to rebuke his claims.

“Then, I take it that this misunderstanding is all cleared up? As you can see, I will do no less than my full effort as your knight. You have that assurance, even if you may find my character less than optimal.”

Chiffon mentally scoffed. Those words were directed as much to her father as they were to her. He was trying to butter him up by displaying his skills of observation and awareness. And while that only served to annoy her, the person with the strongest say in the matter stood at the desk before them.

“I expect good things from you. She is in your hands.”

The King’s words were firm. Steel that would not be bent. Tempered by the cunning of a man Chiffon hardly knew but hated what she did about him. She would not be rid of him, not unless she could prove his shortcomings.

But do such things even exist?

As much as she hated to admit, Caramello was, so far, impervious. Able to dodge her strikes, spin webs around her thoughts, and cause her enough grief to forget her mask of elegance – he was her most challenging opponent yet. One that simply being blessed with power couldn’t solve.