Kinsley answered the door after buzzing Octavius in. She had been surprised he had come to see her.
She stood in the doorway and watched as he stepped off the elevator and came in her direction. “Hello,
Octavius.”
“Miss. Wells,” he nodded politely and then held up the tablet he had in his hand. “I am sorry to bother
you, but we are leaving for Chicago in an hour. I just needed your signature,” he explained, handing it
to her. She read over a digital consent form.
“What is this for?”
“It is just written consent to allow the royal family to pay off your debts and to grant them the ability to
directly deposit a million dollars into your personal bank account, as agreed upon in the service
contract you signed with the Prince. It is your compensation for your time.”
“Right,” She sighed. He made it all sound so casual. Like her fling with Nicholas had merely been a
business arraignment. She was being paid off. Kinsley stared at the consent form. She offered it back.
“I do not want the money.”
“The money is yours.”
“I told you I do not want it,” she did not want her time with Nicholas to be sullied and cheapened by
getting paid.
“I have orders not to come back without your signature,” Kinsley sighed. She did not want to make
things harder for Octavius. Using a stylist that clipped to the top with a magnet, Kinsley signed the
digital form and handed it back to him. “Thank you, Miss. Wells.”
“How is Nicholas?” She asked before he could leave.
“As well as can be expected after dying and being revived. He is skeptical about the outcome but has
agreed to the therapy.”
“I wish him the best.”
Octavius smiled warmly at him. “I shall relay the sentiment.”
“Watch over him.”
“I always do,” he promised, and then Kinsley watched as Octavius left.
Well, that was that. Her time with Nicholas was passed, and it was time to return to her miserable life
as it was. On the other hand, she was now debt-free and a million dollars richer. She could afford to get
her own place. Hell, she could buy a house outright and maybe a car too. She could even get her
parents set up in a nice little place where they would not have to worry about their finances. Yes, the
future looked bright, so why did she feel dead inside?
***
Rehabilitation Institute of Chicago, one month later…
For three weeks after arriving in Chicago, the medical team’s chief goal was to help Nicholas regain his
strength so that he would be strong enough to participate in the physiotherapy they had planned. So for
three weeks, his only task was to eat and to keep down food. For years Nicholas despised eating
because he always felt nauseous. However, since he started taking his daily injections, nausea was no
longer a problem. Nicholas was able to ingest and keep down everything offered to him, and in a few
weeks, he had regained enough strength to perform simple tasks.
For the last week, he had been doing little things like lifting weight… 5lb weights. Sure the weight was
on the low side, but to his withered muscular structure, they might as well had weighed 500lbs. They
were trying to build upper body strength so that he might build enough muscle to hold on to the bars
when they started to get him walking once more.
His progress was slow, but he was making progress. Physically he felt better. The nausea was gone,
and his appetite returned. He had regained sensation and feeling in his body once more. He was
overjoyed not to be in constant pain; he had not even needed his pain killers. His vision was still gone,
and he still required his wheelchair, but even little progress was progress, and for the first time in his
life, Nicholas felt hope. Hope that his life could be better. Hope that he could even have a life.
Nicholas lay in his bed on his back while Octavius knelt on the mattress next to him. Octavius had one
hand on Nicholas’ knee and the other on his ankle as he lifted Nicholas’ leg up into a bent position and
slowly pushed it, so his knee touched his chest before straightening out the leg and then repeating the
motion. He had done it to one leg and was now working on the other.
It was part of his therapy. The muscles had atrophied, and this exercise helped to stretch the tight
muscles in the legs out and helped him keep limber enough to engage in the physiotherapy in the
clinic. Nicholas was not strong enough to do it on his own, so Octavius helped him. They went through
this routine three times a day, and it was exhausting.
Throughout the weeks, Octavius had played nursemaid to him. With Nicholas in his weakened state,
Octavius had to do almost everything. He would help in and out of bed each day, in and out of his
wheelchair. He helped Nicholas clean up and groom himself each day. He’d help him bathe, and then
he would shave Nicholas and help him brush his hair and teeth. Only a true friend would bathe another
man. The first week and a half, he had even spoon-fed Nicholas until he regained enough strength to
feed himself.
With Octavius’ constant help, Nicholas was very slowly regaining both his strength and his
independence. He still needed help getting in and out of his bed and wheelchair, but he was now strong
enough to feed and groom himself. After a long day of therapy at the center, Octavius would help
Nicholas back into his bed. Then he would sit in a chair near the bed and read the newspaper to
entertain Nicholas. Octavius was ever vigilant, and Nicholas knew even if he lived to be 100, he would
never be able to repay Octavius for his kindness and his friendship.
They were in silence as Nicholas was lost in his own thoughts. He was thinking about Kinsley. He
thought about Kinsley a lot. He missed her, but he had told himself he was letting her go. However, he
had made himself a promise. If he was ever able to walk again, he would find Kinsley and show her the
progress he had made. If he recovered enough, he would seek her out and try to rekindle their
romance only if he recovered. He feared that over the time it takes for him to recover, she will have
moved on and replaced him with another man. He would not blame her if she did, but he held out hope.
He needed hope. It was the only thing that kept him going. The only thing that made him try.
***
Los Angeles, two months later…
Kinsley dropped down on her couch in the living room of her new house. She had bought herself a real
home and paid to furnish it. Outside in the driveway sat a new Nissan, and her bank account still had
enough money in it to live off for another two years. She owned the house and the car outright, having
accumulated no new debt. She was going to work to keep it that way. Kinsley stared at the college
broachers on the coffee table. She had been thinking about going back to school. She could do it with
no student debt. She wanted a real career, something that could pay for a decent lifestyle. Only she
had no idea what she wanted to take.
She thought about Nicholas as she did so often. She missed him, but he was gone, and there was
nothing she could do about it. She supposed she should move on. Go out with friends and meet
someone new. But she was not ready to learn t love someone else. Right now, the wounds on her heart
were still far too fresh, and the only thing that could heal them was time.
***
Aclon Kustium…
Samuel sat on his throne as the Magistrate argued for the punishment of the Prince before the court.
He went into the details of Matthew’s treason. The lawyer representing Matthew did his best to plead
for mercy but was getting nowhere. The people were outraged by his actions. Samuel’s heart broke as
he thought how sad it was that he was forced to choose between his sons. He loved them both, but
Matthew’s actions were inexcusable. As King, he could not allow it to go unpunished. As a father, he
could not bring himself to have his son executed even though death was the punishment for treason.
After two weeks of trial, Samuel could listen to no more of it. He put up his hand to silence the
Magistrate. “I have heard enough. I am ready to rule,” the guard demanded. Matthew stands and
accepts his judgment. “Treason is a serious crime, one punishable by death. As King, I find you
unequivocally guilty of treason,” those gathered began to cheer and clap. Samuel put up his hand,
silencing everyone once more. “As a father, my love for you is unconditional. I cannot execute my child,
but you will be punished. I sentence you to life in prison with no possibility of parole.”
Matthew glared at Samuel with hatred. He did not consider live in prison mercy. Samuel reached out
and took Naya’s hand in his as she sat on the throne next to his. He could see the tears in her eyes.
This was hard on them both, but she was clearly relieved he had shown Matthew mercy. With the trial
over, they could focus on Nicholas’ slow recovery. Hopefully, it would work. Samuel did not believe
Naya could survive any more heartache.
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