The palace was a labyrinth of grand halls and echoing corridors, a place that felt both majestic and suffocating.  Harton, with a gesture of royal hospitality, had allowed us to stay in the guest quarters, a spacious suite with velvet curtains and a fireplace that crackled merrily. 
But the air was thick with unspoken tension.  Kaufman, usually so talkative and full of life, had fallen silent, his emerald eyes reflecting a distant, almost troubled gaze.  He seemed to be lost in his thoughts, his movements uncharacteristically stiff and reserved. 
"Kaufman," I said, my voice laced with concern.  "Is everything alright?"
He didn't reply, his gaze fixed on the flickering flames. 
"What's wrong?" I asked, my voice rising a little.  "Can you please stop being like this?  I'm not used to it.  Please say something."
He finally turned to me, his eyes meeting mine.  But there was a coldness in their depths, a detachment that chilled me to the bone.  He opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came out. 
The knocking came at that moment, a gentle tap on the door.  "Your Grace, I'm here to bring your dinner.  May I come in?" 
"Yes, please," I replied, my voice strained. 
The door opened, revealing a servant carrying a tray laden with food.  He set it down on the table, his eyes flitting between Kaufman and me.  He seemed to sense the tension in the air, but he kept his expression neutral. 
"Thank you," I said, trying to sound as if everything was normal. 
The servant bowed and retreated, leaving us alone with the silence and the growing unease.  Kaufman stood up, his gaze still fixed on me, his eyes cold and unreadable. 
"Kaufman," I said, my voice trembling slightly.  "Please tell me what's wrong."
He opened his mouth again, as if to speak, but then closed it, his face a mask of emotionless stillness.  I couldn't understand what was going on, what had changed him so drastically.  The warmth, the love, the connection we had shared, all seemed to have vanished, replaced by a chilling distance. 
The silence stretched, a suffocating weight that pressed down on me.  I felt a knot of fear tightening in my stomach.  What was happening to Kaufman?  What had he discovered?  What secrets were he keeping from me? 
I needed answers, needed to understand.  But Kaufman remained silent, his cold gaze holding me captive, a riddle I couldn't solve, a mystery that threatened to tear us apart.
The silence in the room was suffocating, the unanswered questions swirling in my mind like a storm. I couldn't bear the tension any longer. I stood up, pushing away my plate of untouched food, and walked towards the garden. I needed air, needed space to think, to try and unravel the mystery of Kaufman's sudden shift. Was it something about the palace, the atmosphere, the secrets swirling around us? Or was it something personal, something he was keeping from me?
I needed to talk to someone, someone who might be able to shed some light on this.  I needed to talk to Harton. 
The palace was a labyrinth of corridors, its grandeur now feeling oppressive. I navigated through the halls, my heart pounding with a mixture of apprehension and determination. I found Harton's office, a grand chamber with a massive desk piled high with papers and a view overlooking the sprawling gardens.
I knocked on the door, my knuckles rapping against the polished wood.  A moment later, the door creaked open, revealing Harton, his expression unreadable.  "Zerah," he said, his voice a low rumble.  "What brings you here at this hour?"
He stood, moving towards me, his presence a magnetic pull.  He leaned in, his gaze meeting mine, his breath warm against my cheek.  "Why are you here?" he whispered, his voice laced with a playful sensuality. 
I met his gaze, a flicker of annoyance crossing my face.  "I'm here to talk about something," I replied, my voice firm. 
He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent shivers down my spine.  "Discuss about what?  About us?"  He gently grabbed a strand of my hair, pulling it towards his face, his nose brushing against it.  "About how you could become my queen?"
My heart pounded in my chest.  He was playing with me, flirting with me, but was there something more?  Did he really remember?  Was this a test? 
I looked away, my gaze falling on the table, where a half-empty bottle of wine sat, its contents shimmering under the lamplight.  Of course.  He was drunk.  That explained his behavior.
"Maybe we should discuss this tomorrow, since you're...  drunk," I said, trying to keep my voice calm. 
He reached out, his hand grabbing my wrist, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through my body.  He pulled me closer, his other hand resting on my waist.  He leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear, the scent of alcohol and something else, something more primal, filling my senses.  He was about to kiss me.
I jerked away, my heart racing.  I had to get out of there. 
"I'm leaving," I said, my voice strained. 
I turned and ran, my footsteps echoing through the hallway.  I didn't look back, didn't dare to look back.  I just kept running, my mind reeling from the encounter. 
Why were both Kaufman and Harton acting so strangely?  Was it the palace, the atmosphere, the secrets that lurked in the shadows?  Or was there something more, something darker, something that threatened to unravel everything I knew? 
I needed answers, needed to understand.  But for now, I just needed to escape, to find a place where I could breathe, where I could think, where I could find some semblance of peace.  I reached my room, collapsing onto the bed, my body trembling with exhaustion and confusion. 
Why are they both acting crazy?  I'm done with this.  I should just get some sleep.
 The weight of uncertainty pressed down on me, a suffocating blanket of confusion.  Harton's behavior, Kaufman's silence, the strange occurrences at the palace it all pointed towards a dark secret, a hidden truth that threatened to unravel everything. 
But I wasn't one to simply sit and wait.  I needed to act, to take control.  I needed to solve this problem, to find the source of the darkness that was creeping into my world. 
"I need to find the source," I whispered, my voice echoing in the quiet of my room. 
First, I needed information.  I had to gather clues, piece together the puzzle, understand the bigger picture.  I had to find the root of the problem, the source of the disease that was spreading like wildfire through the villages. 
"I need to talk to people," I murmured, my mind racing.  "I need to look for clues, for patterns, for anything that might lead me to the answer." 
The palace was a treasure trove of information.  There were whispers in the corridors, rumors in the kitchens, secret conversations in shadowed corners.  I needed to listen, to observe, to piece together the fragments of a hidden story. 
As I lay in bed, my mind buzzing with thoughts, a single, chilling image emerged from the depths of my memory.  The dead body of bear, a creature of immense power, a source of darkness and destruction.  It was a legend, a myth, a story whispered in hushed tones amongst the villagers.  But what if it wasn't just a story?  What if it was the key to solving this mystery? 
"The dead body of bear," I whispered, my breath catching in my throat.  "That's the source of the disease.  It's spreading like a plague, corrupting everything in its path." 
The answer was clear.  I had to find the body, had to confront the source of the darkness.  It was a dangerous quest, a journey into the unknown.  But I had to do it.  For the sake of the villages, for the sake of Kaufman, for the sake of myself. 
"Tomorrow morning," I whispered, a steely resolve settling in my heart.  "I'll find the body of bear, and I'll end this nightmare."