CHAPTER 62
Commander Robert hadn't been the same. He had tried his best to see Grace the same way as before, but it just didn't work. And Parkston, to him, wasn't just some ordinary person.
Meanwhile, Grace had been struggling to pretend that everything was fine, especially now that she was starting to feel more frequent, electric sensations building at her fingertips. Seeking consultation from Robert might have helped, but that was officially off her to-do list.
She stood up from the ornate bed, determined not to let the recent events weigh her down any further. She needed fresh air, some sort of comfort. But just as she rose, the door swung open immediately, though nothing and no one had touched it.
"This has happened before," she said aloud.
The more steps she took toward the door, the wider it swung open. This time, no one was present to witness it. She shut it forcefully and returned to sit on the bed, only for it to fall open again.
Agitated, she jumped up to close it once more. But before she could reach it, the atmosphere shifted. The windows began to rattle violently, and a gust of wind swept through the room, filling the air with dust.
"It is time, Grace Johnson." A deep, baritone voice spoke through the room, loud enough to shatter a nearby glass.
Grace dropped to the floor, clutching her ears.
"Do not entrust your powers into someone else's hands. And you shall ask your question, just one," the voice declared.
Grace blinked, she was disoriented. Confusion wrapped around her. 'Just one question?' she thought.
She hesitated. And then finally, she stood.
"You said…" she cleared her throat, "that I shouldn't entrust my powers into someone else's hands. What do you simply mean?"
The voice responded without delay.
"You shall not enclose matters about your powers to anyone again. The people closest to you may not stand by you when the time comes. Soon enough, you shall understand."
And just like that, it vanished.
The room fell silent. Grace stood frozen, juggling the weight of those words.
"If I don't talk about it," she whispered to herself, "how then do I navigate through?"
Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden, frantic knock on the door.
"Yes?" she called out. She could see a servant standing by the door, panting heavily.
"Why are you breathing like that?"
"He collapsed again," the servant said, visibly shaken.
"Who? Speak up, who?" Grace demanded.
The servant stammered before answering.
"Your father, King Charlenugo has collapsed."
Grace's expression shifted immediately. She grabbed her robe and wrapped it tightly around herself.
"Take me to him," she ordered, her voice sharp with urgency.
She stormed down the hallway, her footsteps echoing with authority. The servant hurried beside her.
By the time they reached King Charlenugo's chambers, the room was already full. People stood scattered, solemn. Grace pushed her way through the gathering.
There he was, King Charlenugo lying flat, breathing heavily with a trembling body.
"Father," Grace cried, falling to her knees beside him. "I am so sorry."
King Charlenugo only gazed up at her, locking eyes. He saw his son, or who he believed was his son and all the love in his eyes for him.
"Let's treat him," she urged, but everyone else shook their heads.
"There's no treatment for him," Queen Judith said through sobs, tears streaming down her face.
Grace froze. "So we're just going to watch him suffer in pain?" she asked, her voice cracking as a tear fell from her eye.
Some of the commanders stepped forward, holding her gently but firmly.
The room was silent. Emotions ran raw. Tears fell freely and all Grace could do was look at the mighty king, now lying helpless.
Then, as though summoned by the moment, the deep baritone voice echoed once more in her mind. "It's time."
She repeated it aloud. "It's time."
"It's time?" the commanders echoed, confused.
Grace moved slowly toward the king. She raised her hand, and her fingers began to twitch. Steadily, she pressed them against his chest.
A sharp cry rang from King Charlenugo's voice and then, he fell silent. His eyes became closed and everyone held their breath.
Grace stood still in hope, waiting for something, anything to happen. The room remained still. Time felt suspended and after a few long moments of silence, the hope began to fade. She turned, disappointed, ready to leave.
Then came the gasps.
"Unbelievable," someone whispered.
"It isn't real," another voice cried out.
Grace turned back,slowly and King Charlenugo was, alive and awake. His eyes shining brighter, glowing effortlessly.
He was healed. Grace had healed him.