After a year, Tristan was taking a walk on the streets when he heard another news about Asher. He took two steps back to listen closely.

"Can you believe it? The King of Ashernia has been severely ill for months now."

"Wow, really?"

"Yes, the people are lowkey celebrating, waiting for his death."

"I'm so happy for them."

Tristan's heart paused for a second.
Asher has been ill for months? If the people are expecting him to die then...

Tristan shook out the negative thoughts.
I must do something.

He went home to tell the gang but their apathetic reaction was not what he expected. After a long silence Betty spoke.

"Eh... Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" she said.

Ethan chirped in. "Good, no one will be after us when he dies, and we get to live peacefully."

Tristan glared at everyone in disgust. Not even one person felt pity for Asher's state.

Darius sat quietly by the corner and darted away when his son looked at him. Tristan sighed in disappointment, then left.

He left a note for his Dad, about his journey back to Ashernia the next day.
...

Back in Ashernia, Asher's parents got all kinds of doctors and nurses but there was no improvement.

"This is a very rare condition, I'll have to do research," the doctor said.

"Please, help him," his mother said. She blinked to fight back the tears. "You're our last hope."

"I'll see what I can do."

Asher was lying on the bed when his servant notified. "My king, that person."

His eyes widened as Tristan walked in. Asher sighed and turned his head. "What do you want now?"

Tristan fell on his face, bowing. "I'm sorry, for everything."

"Huh?" Asher looked at him. "Oh, you're here to pay your last respect? Don't worry, I won't hunt you when I'm dead. Just leave."

Tristan paused, he glimpsed around to make sure no one was there. "Have you tried-"

"I can't 'flower, gleam and glow' my way out of this one," he chuckled, misery prominent in his tone.
This flower is withering.

Tristan met Scarlet as he left the room. She glared. "You again!"

"Can you tell me what's wrong with him?" Tristan said.

Scarlet forced a smile. "Oh, wow, you suddenly care about Asher now? Something you could have done a year ago."

"Please, I'm begging."

"It's heartbreak syndrome, I don't suppose you know anything about-"

"Heartbreak syndrome," he said slowly with squinted eyes like he was trying to recall something. "Oh! That condition is caused by the loss of a loved one."

"Y-Yes... I guess?" she shrugged.

"My father had it years ago, he was treated by Betty."

A brief silence followed, as if they were holding back words, Scarlet was about to say something but Tristan spoke first.

"Please, tell him we can help, he can be cured."

Tristan walked away.

Scarlet informed Asher but he rejected the idea without a second thought.

"Help from them? No."

"This might be our only chance, please."

"I don't want to feel like I owe them."

"You don't, they're just trying to be nice because guilt is eating them up, they would do anything to redeem themselves."

"I don't care," Asher turned to the window.

"Everyone is waiting for your quick recovery."

He darted to her then scoffed. "Everyone? You and I both know the majority awaits my death."

"Okay... at least a few people are waiting for your recovery," she shrugged, forcing a smile.

Asher thought about the pain it would cause his parents and Scarlet, he decided to let go of his pride a little. "Fine, I agree."

Scarlet squealed then hugged him. "Yay! Thank you!"
...

The gang turned as Tristan entered.

"Wow, we thought you'd be dead by now," one said. The others bombarded him with questions.

"What happened?"

"Is his state as critical as they say?"

"Is he truly bedridden?"

"How much time does he have left?"

"Will he survive?"

Tristan walked to Betty. "I need your help, it's heartbreak syndrome."

They gasped in unison and muttered to themselves.

"Why should I help?" Betty said.

He lowered his gaze.
She's right, it is not her concern. It's my fault he's ill, the shock from the day I left must have triggered it.

Tristan went on his knees. "Please."

Betty kicked his side."Geez! Get up. I'll treat him, okay?"

Tristan rubbed his stomach then stood. "Thanks."

His father turned to Betty. "Please, do your best."
He must be feeling a lot of pain.
...

The guards crossed their spears as Tristan opened the door.

"No weapons, we'll have to search you."

"Why not?" Betty said.

"How are we sure you're not here to kill the king?" the other guard said.

"How am I sure you're not here to kill us?" she retorted.

"It's fine, let them in. I'm half dead anyway," Asher said in a low tone.