Chapter Text
Sunny didn't know if the lack of restraints was due to a miscalculation or if the Sprout Mole were completely certain he wouldn't escape. One thing was certain: he was being watched very closely by a monster with a mentally challenged face and a disgusting stalk that could slice through skin and bone with a single blow. He never thought the day would come when his fear of that monstrous-plant species would turn into mere apprehension. He theorized that his capacity to manage panic had overwhelmed him during his last punishment. Few things could surpass the pain in his back.
The violin strings didn't vibrate; they throbbed to the rhythm of Sunny's footsteps. A stain of mud from the castle guardian had blackened the wood. The boy with Asian features hadn't been able to clean it in his cell. Physical evidence of the conversation with that entity. And of the agreement. The damned agreement. Sunny didn't know whether to feel stupid or betrayed. Accepting the mud monster's help had turned his skin a sickly pallor; It turned him into the comic relief of a black-and-white film. In exchange for what? A supposed power that didn't respond to his commands, if indeed he'd been given such a gift in the first place. It could all have been a blatant lie to position Sunny atop a select and unstable pillar of near-impossible tasks. In other words: he accepted without considering the consequences.
What other solution did he have? Tempt fate as he had in the Silent Forest? There was no worse strategy than praying to luck. No benevolent god of destiny was going to rescue him from the pink castle amidst angelic chants and prayers. Nor could he ask the other slaves for advice; he was trapped in the castle because a child had betrayed him, and who could guarantee it wouldn't happen again?
"Walk faster, little musician," ordered the Sprout Mole who was watching him closely. His ability to speak was surprising given his misshapen face; he didn't exactly inspire a sense of intelligence. Moreover, he wasn't wearing the guards' full armor, just a rag around his waist (Sprout Moles had waists) from which hung a knife almost as long as Sunny's forearm. "The queen eagerly awaits your concert. Hurry."
Sunny could walk faster if the monsters had given him a little more time to recover from his injuries. And, while they were at it, a good meal. He was starving.
He put his violin back in its case and slung it over his shoulder without breaking stride. He passed a group of chained slaves covered in dirt—gardeners, perhaps—their exhaustion evident in their panting and heavy breathing. Several looked at him with disdain, envying his status as a musician; one even dared to try and spit at him. Needless to say, the audacious slave received a lash from a monster right there. Sunny quickened his pace to lose sight of the painful scene as soon as possible. For the first time, he was grateful for the monsters' presence nearby, knowing that most of those children would have attacked him at the first opportunity. It was unfair; Sunny was a slave like all of them, regardless of the privileges he was granted.
"Turn to your right and go up the steps," ordered the monster with the knife. He didn't show the contempt the Sprout Moles displayed toward the children, only a simple, plain apathy, as if Sunny were just another task to be carried out instead of a real person. "Your destination lies behind the pink door."
The boy with Asian features rolled his eyes. All the doors were painted pink except for the cells. He was forced to wait for another instruction from the monster (another insult, because bad words were never superfluous) to know where he should go.
A museum, it seemed; A naturally vast room—without the presence of the gigantic queen to expand the walls and ceiling—exuded metallic and old-book scents. A pink carpet connected the entrance to the far end, where Sir Maximus IV, the second figure Sunny hated most in the entire castle, awaited him, dressed in his elegant green robes, carrying the weight of something far greater than the room itself: his boundless pride and cruelty. The boy felt an urge to hurl his violin at him, without fear of the consequences. His punishment was guaranteed the moment he saw the monster smirk, even if it meant digging his own grave a little deeper. At least he would leave this world feeling good about himself.
"Come closer. I want to hear your music," Sir Maximus IV ordered. "My good will has decided to grant you one more chance to atone for the mistake of your pathetic last concert."
Sunny bit his tongue and glanced behind him. The knife-wielding guard had left the room, silent as a shadow; only the monster and he remained. The perfect moment to test his musical instrument-throwing skills. It would be quite amusing to see the monster's arrogance erupt into inhuman rage; nevertheless, Sunny decided to obey silently, like a good slave. He wasn't going to rush things, act impulsively. Spontaneous actions had put him in Headspace. First, he wanted to assess the situation with a cool head, then he would act accordingly.
Some twenty display cases stood to the left and right, proudly showcasing weapons and armor designed to suit the Sprout Mole's physique. Open books displayed countless names, as important as they were unrecognizable to the boy with Asian features. Figures of weight within the castle, perhaps the previous monarchs the guard had mentioned only briefly. He also noticed tapestries depicting Sprout Mole defeating dragons and demons in a parody of medieval engravings. Sunny's attention was drawn to a huge painting of the silhouettes of a whale, a cat, and some kind of fusion between a woman and an octopus. Below it, the title read: The oldest, the wisest, and the favorite.
"This is the queen's museum. The history of the castle is summarized within the glass cases around you," Sir Maximus IV explained suddenly. "The reign of all monsters has been carefully preserved within these cases. Their belongings are on display for anyone who wishes to be inspired by their grandeur, and their stories shine within the books, awaiting a passionate reader. It's wonderful to immerse yourself in the history of your legacy from time to time."
Sunny didn't know what to say, or even if he should say anything at all. Sir Maximus IV's change of heart had left him stunned. His haughty words took on a dreamy tone, the closest a monster could come to the role of mentor Sunny was used to. But what had caused the change? A figure as unbearable as the Sprout Mole before him couldn't possibly lower himself from his dreamlike pedestal to treat those inferior to him as equals.
"Anyone would want to witness such a magnificent history of legacies rooted in time," Sir Maximus IV continued, "a creature with the capacity to imagine like yours would marvel at such a spectacle of important figures. The museum expands the knowledge of those it welcomes into its halls!"
The boy with Asian features stopped in the middle of the enormous hall to see for himself, ignoring the order to approach. He wanted to know the reason for the monster's change of heart, even if it meant being sent to the torture chamber a third time. He tried to read the texts in the wide-open books, accessible to everyone, but the writing was a mix of English and an unrecognizable language. The armor and other artifacts didn't catch his eye either, except for the absence of rust on the metal. Someone was probably responsible for maintaining everything. Probably the slaves. The castle's history didn't resonate with Sunny's inquisitive mind.
"Come closer and play your tunes, musical genius."
Sunny's brain suffered an emergency reboot at that very moment. The creature before him couldn't be the same arrogant monster that had sent him to the torture chamber, even though its clothing matched the image of the Sprout Mole from his memories. It didn't make sense. Why was it suddenly treating him so well? Was this some kind of mind game? Impossible, the castle guardian emphasized the monsters' inability to imagine. It was impossible for them to weave such a subtle and complex trap, wasn't it? The truth was, Sunny had no idea of the extent of a monster's mental capacity.
His feet moved until he was five meters away from Sir Maximus IV. The monster's face didn't suddenly break into a cruel grin that would have revealed the beginning of a deadly trap, nor did its stalk move with the intention of tearing Sunny's skin off, and its mouth didn't summon the guards. Everything was going too well for him. TOO well for his own comfort.
Sunny began a waltz, a slow improvisation with obvious similarities to the song he and Mari were to perform at the recital. He wanted something slow that he could easily maintain in a situation over which he had no control. He hoped Sir Maximus IV would like it, for he had received no instructions beyond the order to play the violin.
The crystals vibrated with the sound of the music, requiring careful attention to hear them above the violin's song. The air moved around the monster, its stem swaying, drunk with pleasure, as the chords filled the space. The vastness soon generated echoes, annoying at first, as the notes overlapped. Sunny was forced to adjust the tempo of the piece before reaching the halfway point, transforming these annoyances into a captivating accompaniment.
Just like last time, Sunny couldn't finish the piece.
"That's enough," the monster interrupted suddenly. He wasn't angry or upset; on the contrary, his deformed face melted with pleasure. "Good music. It's a shame you can't finish it."
Sunny took a step back and glanced at the door. He knew perfectly well that he wouldn't be able to escape before Sir Maximus IV turned his back into a bloody trench, but if he used the objects in the display cases as a distraction...
"I've wanted to talk to you ever since I heard the castle guardian contacted you," the Sprout Mole revealed. "That deformed creature rarely bothers to speak to a child. You must be quite special if you caught his attention."
For a few seconds, Sunny thought his ears were malfunctioning, because half the things he heard shouldn't have come from Sir Maximus IV's mouth. A pinch on his arm dismissed the suspicion of a feverish dream brought on by the torture injuries. Well, he was in serious trouble. A simple call to the guards and it would all be over. Sweetheart wouldn't allow a child with the intention of killing her to exist.
"I want to assassinate the queen."
The boy thought he wouldn't be surprised twice in a row. Sir Maximus IV's confession resonated loudly and sincerely. Hatred seeped into his voice, a contaminating element difficult to ignore for someone so skilled at uncovering interesting details.
The Sprout Mole in luxurious clothes began to walk—passing by Sunny—
slowly and with a grace uncharacteristic of one of his kind. His small, dark eyes admired the pieces displayed inside the glass cases without showing the slightest interest. He continued until he reached a secluded area of the museum, a pedestal supporting a life-size statue of a Sprout Mole in full armor, so hidden among pieces of history that Sunny hadn't noticed it until that moment.
"We both share the same goal: to kill Sweetheart," the monster declared. I don't know your exact motivations, nor do I care. Right now, I'm only focused on fulfilling my vengeance, and I know we can accomplish a great deal if we work together.
Sunny approached. The statue stood with a pride forgotten by time. The grimace etched in stone was the closest thing to a heroic expression a monster could muster. A name gleamed in black letters on the golden plaque of the pedestal: Sir Maximus I.
"He is my ancestor," the monster confessed. The leaves on its stem unfurled to brush the stone surface with a gentle touch. "Sweetheart murdered him years ago over a trivial disagreement. Since then, my entire lineage has desired the queen's death." He pronounced the word "queen" as an insult. "Sir Maximus II challenged Sweetheart to a duel to the death. He lost. And Sir Maximus III, my father, also tried to kill her to avenge the deaths of my grandfather and great-grandfather. He failed as well. I am the only one left of my lineage."
Sunny split his mind in two: one part analyzed the monster's words, while the other observed the objects surrounding the statue; two display cases containing the remains of armor, corroded by rust. The names Sir Maximus II and III highlighted the owners of these pieces.
"I am not as reckless as my relatives. I am not a warrior, I am a strategist," the creature acknowledged, not with regret, but with pride. "My intelligence surpasses most monsters. I possess a limited capacity for imagination... Not like any other child, unfortunately, but it is enough to stand out among the members of my kind. My strength lies in subtlety, sweet words, and timely agreements."
"What do you propose?" Sunny inquired. He had put his violin back in its case and held it cautiously. You never know when he might need it to defend himself. "An alliance?"
It sounded stupid to team up with a monster known for gratuitous cruelty.
"An alliance between a Sprout Mole and a child," the monster repeated to himself. He seemed to enjoy his own voice. "Indeed. Together we can defeat the queen."
Sunny wanted to facepalm. How could he have even considered proposing an alliance? He couldn't trust that creature; at any moment, it could send him back to the torture chamber... again. His back still bore the pain of his last punishment, the resentment lurking beneath his blank expression, waiting to exact its revenge.
"I'm not going to apologize for what I did yesterday," Sir Maximus IV revealed. A proud expression momentarily returned to his face, a reminder of his true nature. "I've earned my position. I have every right in the world to treat inferior beings like toys. You're no exception: you're a toy, a more interesting one than the rest of your kind. And frankly, it pains my pride to team up with you."
“Then assassinate the queen yourself if your pride is so wounded,” Sunny retorted.
Perhaps he should have chosen his words differently. Fortunately, Sir Maximus IV dismissed his outburst with an elegant gesture, and his face regained the elegant calm it had displayed moments before.
“You know the queen’s physical condition, little musician. She hides her decay with heavy perfumes and makeup.” He didn’t wait for Sunny to reply. “A shipment will arrive tomorrow with enough doughnut dough to ‘cure’ Sweetheart’s ailments. This is our chance to act.”
Sunny clutched his violin to his chest.
“What do you plan to do?”
“Tomorrow we’ll meet in the gardens under the pretext of a solo concert,” the monster explained, his gaze fixed on the statue of his great-grandfather. “When the shipment passes through the castle walls, I’ll distract the guards so you can slip a potent poison into the doughnut dough. Sweetheart will die without knowing who orchestrated her downfall.”
Sunny was stunned. The plan was so simple and practical that it didn't seem to have come from the mind of a Sprout Mole.
"You want to poison her?" he repeated slowly. "It's impossible. The queen isn't..." Sunny hesitated for a moment. What exactly was Sweetheart? "She's not a living being like you and me. She's made..."
"Sweetheart is a golem, I know that perfectly well. I know her internal structure better than she does. Better than anyone," the monster interrupted. "I can assure you that I possess the perfect poison to bring her down. The castle guardian gave it to me."
Sunny nodded slowly. He didn't trust the monster, although the confidence he exuded was undeniable.
For now, he decided to question him a little more.
"Do you know the guardian?"
"Yes."
Just that, a curt "yes," the kind that didn't allow for any further discussion. Sunny hated them. He also hated not being able to pressure Sir Maximus IV into detail about his relationship with the castle guardian; his stalk swayed like a threat. He didn't want to feel it on his back.
"You have no choice, little musician. We will follow my plan to the letter," the Sprout Mole decreed. "I will not tolerate any mistakes."
And that was how he allied himself with a monster against his will.