The morning light had barely crept into the palace windows when the silence in Josephine's room seemed too heavy. The usual sound of her soft scribbling, or the tiny hums she made when drawing, was absent.
Sophina entered briskly, already irritated.
"Hey! Get up!" she snapped, tugging at the blanket. But Josephine didn't move.
"Can't you fucking—" Sophina began, annoyed, but when she turned Josephine's frail body toward her, her words died in her throat.
Blood.
Fresh, dark blood stained the pillow, pooling from Josephine's mouth.
"HENDRICK!!!!!!!" Sophina's scream shook the palace walls.
Within seconds, Tess flashed into the room with her incredible speed. She was the first one to reach Josephine, climbing onto the bed.
"Jojo…" Tess whispered in panic, pulling her closer. Her hands trembled. "Blood…" she said in disbelief, eyes wide. "Why is she bleeding?!" she shouted at Sophina.
"I just arrived! How am I supposed to know?" Sophina retorted defensively, though even she trembled.
The door burst open. The children rushed in, and with them came King Hendrick. His eyes went straight to Josephine's pale face.
"What's going on?!" he barked, his voice echoing. His heart stopped when he saw her.
"Jojo?" he whispered, walking closer. "What happened?"
Tess, tears in her eyes, carried Josephine carefully into the great hall, her urgency tearing through the palace corridors. "Place her—please heal her!" Tess begged, voice cracking as she laid Josephine on the large ceremonial bed where healers usually worked.
Piere's eyes glowed a deep emerald green as he hovered his palms over Josephine, scanning her body. His face darkened.
"She's bleeding inside. Everywhere."
Anesthesia stepped forward, pressing her hand to Josephine's forehead. Her eyes rolled back, and she slipped into Josephine's mind.
What she saw made her chest tighten in terror—Josephine sat upon a throne made of bones, and behind her stretched a line of ancient rulers of the lost kingdom. They called her name in a haunting chorus.
"Jojo!" Anesthesia shouted in her mind. "WAKE UP!"
Josephine gasped violently, her eyes flying open as she coughed out streams of blood.
"Too much…" Hendrick whispered, reaching helplessly.
"Josephine!" Anesthesia cried, but the strain of the vision was too much. She fainted.
"Anesthesia!" Oliver caught her quickly before she hit the floor.
"What the hell is happening?!" Sophina shrieked, holding the unconscious Anesthesia. No one answered. The room filled with silence and fear.
The healers rushed Josephine to the palace hospital wing. Forest and light elves worked tirelessly, their hands glowing with healing energy. One of the elder elves approached King Hendrick.
"Your Majesty…" she said gently.
"How old is your daughter?"
"Sixteen," Hendrick answered immediately, worry etching every word.
The elf frowned. "She is suffering from deep mental inbalance, stress beyond her years… and…" she hesitated, "…there is evidence of a sleep potion in her blood. It has been taken repeatedly. It caused this deep sleep and internal bleeding."
"Sleeping potions?" Hendrick's voice darkened.
Noah froze. His mind raced. "Wait… last night… I saw her in Anesthesia's room. She was holding something tight. She drank it—finished the whole bottle. I thought I was dreaming… but it wasn't."
The elf's expression hardened. "Is she facing abuse? Bullying? Did you take her away from the person she loved most?"
Hendrick's chest clenched. "…Her Nana. The woman who raised her for sixteen years. She misses her terribly."
"Then bring her Nana closer. Let her visit. Or her health will worsen. That bond cannot be replaced," the elf warned before hurrying back into the healing chamber.
Through the glass window, Hendrick's eyes never left his daughter's fragile form. His mind already whirred with plans.
Anesthesia, pale but awake now, walked in supported by Oliver. Hendrick turned sharply to Sophina.
"I beg you—don't touch Josephine again. If you do, you will face consequences."
Sophina's jaw clenched. Rage burned in her, but she swallowed it.
From the shadows, the Masked King had seen and heard everything. Without hesitation, he vanished in a blur of speed, reappearing in the quiet village where Ceillie lived. He stepped into her bakery.
"Excuse me," his deep voice filled the small shop.
"Yes?" Ceillie looked up.
"You are Josephine's Nana?"
"Yes, I am. Why? What's wrong? What happened to my Jojo?" her voice wavered, worry flooding her face.
"She's in the hospital. That's why I came. I'm her teacher."
Ceillie's hands trembled as she gave him a seat.
They talked. Secrets unraveled.
"She was only four when she… when she killed Drake," Ceillie whispered, tears shining. "She was still just a baby. I was terrified that night."
The Masked King's eyes softened behind the mask.
"How is she in school?" Ceillie asked.
"She's… very intelligent. Extremely gorgeous too." His words slipped before he realized. What the bloody hell did I just say?! he cursed silently.
Ceillie smiled faintly. "She is. I can't wait for her wedding day. I only pray someone will love her for who she is."
The Masked King's voice was quiet. "She is something. More than something."
They spoke of her powers, her marks, her dreams.
"My goodness," Ceillie gasped.
"Yes. Hendrick and I are planning for her future. And… with your permission, one day, I will take off my mask before you."
Tears streamed down Ceillie's face. "Thank you. Please give her these—her favorite foods. And this picture. It means the world."
He bowed his head. "Goodbye, Nana." With blinding speed, he vanished.
Back in the hospital, the atmosphere was heavy. Sophina had left, but Hendrick stayed with the children. A sudden gust of wind swept the hall, and the Masked King appeared, holding a box.
"Hello, King Hendrick."
"How is she?" he asked softly.
"Still not awake," Oliver answered.
The Masked King handed a small package to Tess, Callum, and Piere. Inside were Ceillie's food and photographs. The children smiled, clutching them close.
"Nana…" Callum whispered.
"Thank you," they all said together.
But in the hospital bed, Josephine stirred. She opened her eyes and stared out the window. She clapped her hands, smiling brightly, making small signs with her fingers. I want to play with you all too.
"What the fuck… who the hell is she talking to?" Noah muttered.
"Josephine," the Masked King said softly.
She waved at them, still clapping, her silent laughter lighting her face. Hendrick rushed to her side, tears brimming. "Here, Jojo… I went to see your Nana. She sent these."
When Josephine saw the photograph, she hugged it tight, kissing Ceillie's face over and over. She opened the flasks of food, and Tess, Callum, and Piere sat on the floor around her, eating happily.
Noah couldn't take his eyes off Tess. Ever since he had laid eyes on her months ago, he had been drawn to her.
The ages lined themselves quietly in Hendrick's mind: Noah 24. Oliver 23. Anesthesia turning 19. The twins, 18. Josephine, just 16.
The Masked King leaned toward Hendrick. "She agreed. You only need to find an empty shop for the bakery."
"I'll do it," Hendrick nodded.
"Bye, Josephine I have to put and feed
Adris to sleep," the Masked King said gently.
She made a sign with her hands: The baby?
"You have a child?" Hendrick asked, surprised.
"Yes. And your daughter named him. He loves her too." The Masked King's form dissolved into the wind, vanishing.
Hendrick blinked, still stunned by his speed. But when he turned back, his gaze fell upon his little girl—smiling, hugging her Nana's picture. And his heart swelled.