Applegario spent days trying to figure out who ate his pudding. What started as mild irritation quickly became a full investigation. The king woke up every morning with the same question circling his mind, replaying the memory of the empty bowl as if it were a crime scene burned into his thoughts. By the second day, he was already suspicious. By the third, he was convinced there was a criminal hiding somewhere inside his own mansion.
He became a detective overnight. Servants were questioned during breakfast, guards during their shift changes, and maids while they were still holding cleaning cloths in their hands. Anyone present in the mansion at the time of the crime became a suspect. Applegario even summoned nobles, ignoring their titles and status as he stared them down with narrowed eyes, asking where they had been and what they had eaten that afternoon.
For a weeks, he was Detective King. Everyone suffered through it. Everyone except the one person who actually did it.
"Mr. King, good day. Any clue?" Straw said the moment she entered his personal living room.
The room looked nothing like what she had expected from a king. It was a little childish, almost embarrassingly so. The space felt warm and oddly comforting, like it belonged to someone who never quite grew up. It resembled a nursery for a toddler, minus the baby cradle. The walls were painted in bright, soft colors that clashed with the rest of the palace. Stuffed toys were scattered around, some resting on shelves, others slumped carelessly on chairs and the floor.
Straw's eyes drifted to the wall.
There hung a painting of the previous king and queen of the nation, regal and composed, frozen in oil and gold frames. Beside it was a smaller picture of a young Applegario standing between them, smiling far too widely for someone who would one day rule a nation. Next to that was another painting, this one of him and Berryanna. They were both small in it, their faces round and innocent. They could not have been older than five.
"Good day, Lady Fayrouza. I am this close to finding the criminal," Applegario said confidently as he looked at her.
He sat hunched over his desk, scribbling on a piece of paper with intense focus, muttering to himself as if solving a puzzle that could determine the fate of the world. His brow was furrowed, his lips pressed into a serious line.
Then, as if struck by inspiration, he stood up abruptly and walked toward her, holding out a plastic bag.
"What is that?" Straw asked, taking it from his hand.
She turned it over between her fingers, the material crinkling softly.
"My clue. The pudding thief happens to be a lady with pink hair," he said proudly, tilting the bag so she could see its contents. Inside was a single strand of hair. "I found this beside the dining table. The thief forgot it. Once I find whoever owns this hair, my little sister is going to make them pay."
Straw stared at the strand. Then she stared at Applegario. Her expression did not change, but inside her mind, confusion and disbelief collided. She was the only person in the mansion with pink hair. There was no one else. No visiting noble, no servant, no guard who even came close. The answer was standing right in front of him, holding the evidence. Calmly, she placed the plastic bag on the table. She had come here for two reasons. Confessing was one of them. Instead, she chose the latter.
"Mr. King, do you have any idea what your sister likes to do?" Straw asked. "Maybe her adventures, daily routine, or habits? Something fun?"
Applegario returned to his chair, the investigation already forgotten as he leaned back.
"Beheading," he replied.
Straw blinked.
"What? That is not a fun thing to do. Do you have any other options? Like, you know, her everyday routine?"
"Berry does not have anything fun doing," he said casually. "All she does is attend daily meetings with the nobles, making sure the nation is doing great. Also, beheading traitors."
"You just cannot get past the word beheading, huh?" Straw muttered under her breath.
She sighed quietly, her shoulders slumping as she thought about it. She wanted to connect with Berry beyond paperwork and stiff conversations. Their daily routine felt more like work than anything else. On top of that, Straw had not stepped outside since arriving at the palace. Every day blurred into the next, filled with corridors, rooms, and silence. Right now, the princess was in her office as usual, stuck in another meeting.
"Alright then," Straw said after a moment. "What do you do for fun?"
She paused, then added, "After all, the princess said I can be friends with you. So what do you do?"
At the very least, she needed to be on his good side before telling him the truth. The moment the words left her mouth, Applegario stopped scribbling. His head lifted slowly. Then he smiled.
It was the kind of smile that made Straw instantly uneasy, like she had just stepped into something she would regret. He looked at her as if he had been waiting his entire life for someone to ask him that question.
Straw immediately regretted her decision. She should have stayed in her room. She should have read the morning papers, slept longer, or done literally anything else. Instead, she was here, watching the king's smile widen in a way that promised chaos.
He dragged her into playing hide and seek. All day. Straw searched endlessly. She checked hallways, rooms, gardens, staircases, and storage spaces. She ran through corridors, peeked behind curtains, and even opened doors she knew she was not supposed to. Yet Applegario was nowhere to be found. It felt like he was not even in the mansion at all.
Her frustration grew with every passing hour. Eventually, she approached a guard, breathless and irritated, asking if he had seen the king. The guard stared straight ahead, ignoring her completely. Another guard walked past her as if she were invisible. No matter who she asked, no one responded. Finally, exhausted and annoyed, Straw gave up.
She wandered aimlessly through the palace halls, her footsteps echoing softly against the stone floors. Without realizing it, she ended up standing in front of large doors she had never seen before. The throne room. She hesitated, then stepped inside.
It looked exactly like how every throne room had ever been described to her. Vast, grand, and imposing. High ceilings stretched above her, pillars lining the space like silent watchers.
But something was wrong. There were no bodies, yet the air was thick. The smell hit her immediately, metallic and suffocating. Blood. It was everywhere. Stained into the curtains, splattered across the walls, darkened on the throne itself. Her chest tightened.
Straw backed away slowly, her steps careful and quiet as she turned and slipped out of the room. She did not want to remember what she had seen. More than that, she did not want to get into trouble.
"What were you doing in there?"
She froze. Turning around, she saw the hooded prince. That was the nickname she had given him. His face was half hidden, his presence heavy.
"Nothing," Straw said quickly. "Just looking for the king. We were playing hide and seek and..."
"Shut the bullshit, Strawlita," Vinegario snapped. "I do not know what games you and your family are playing now, but if I see even a crack on my niece or nephew, I will break you in two. Before that, I will make your life a living hell. You will regret ever coming across the Anthonys."
His voice was sharp, meant to intimidate.
"Trying to play the overprotective uncle, huh?" Straw replied calmly. "You do not even look like one. Judging by your appearance, even though you are covering half your face, you are clearly hiding something. But I love your niece, and I am going to be the best wife ever... forever."
She tried to step past him, but he blocked her path.
"I know you are putting on an act," Vinegario said. "And I am going to reveal your other self. Two-faced bitch."
Straw ignored him. Arguing with him was pointless.