LIGHTNOVELWORLD Chapter 6: Kindness in the Shadows
This was strange. She had always thought that her elder brother had shown her kindness only that one time when he insisted they bury her in the royal graveyard.
But now, hearing that he had visited monthly, Nnenna couldn't help but wonder. 'Does this mean he's helped me in other ways I didn't even know about?'
The voice of the Love System chimed in, answering her thoughts. "I told you that everyone deserves a second chance. Plus, in your previous life, you never called Nurse Courage 'Mommy,' but doing so now has opened up a secret."
The words struck Nnenna like a bolt of lightning. 'Being good can actually open doors to secrets for me?'
It was something worth considering.
Nurse Courage's soft voice filled the room as she continued chatting with Nnenna, her tone comforting and warm. But as the minutes passed, Nnenna's eyelids grew heavy. Her thoughts slowed, her body relaxed, and she eventually succumbed to sleep.
The nurse smiled gently, pausing mid-sentence as she noticed the young girl's peaceful expression. Quietly, she stood up and pulled the blanket over Nnenna's shoulders, tucking her in with motherly care.
Ding.
The faint chime echoed softly in the void of Nnenna's subconscious, not loud enough to wake her but clear enough to stir the dormant Love System.
"Happiness is not something you get, but something you give. When you make others happy, you find your own joy and fulfillment. You earned back your lost 15 good points, and you've just gained an additional 10 points multiplied by 3 for gaining fifty percent of Nurse Courage's affection. Keep up the good work!"
At the royal castle, the housekeeper's phone rang sharply, breaking the stillness of his office. Picking it up, he pressed it to his ear and listened attentively to the voice on the other end.
"Good day," the caller began, their tone professional but pleasant. "We are pleased to inform you that your ward, Princess Achebe Nnenna, has awakened from her coma. Please come to the Royal hospital for further details."
The old housekeeper's eyes widened in joy. Without wasting another moment, he rushed out of his office, the phone still clutched tightly in his hand.
Now, phones in the royal castle might seem an odd sight to an outsider, but in this world, where ancient monarchies still held power despite the march of modern civilization, technology had naturally integrated itself into daily life.
Cars filled the royal garages, electricity powered the grand halls, and phones buzzed just as they would in any modern home. It was a curious balance, a world steeped in regal tradition yet adapted to the conveniences of modernity.
The housekeeper hurried down the ornate corridors, his footsteps echoing against the polished marble floors. He reached the throne room and addressed the guards stationed outside the heavy, gilded doors.
"I seek an audience with my Queen on matters concerning her daughter, Princess Nnenna."
One of the guards nodded and stepped inside to relay the message. Moments later, he returned with an unreadable expression. "The Queen is busy. Her lady in waiting says someone else should handle whatever it is."
The housekeeper hesitated. He wanted to leave but decided to press the issue further. "This is not something that can be handled by someone else. It concerns her daughter's health."
The guard frowned but turned back to deliver the housekeeper's insistence. This time, the response came swiftly, accompanied by a loud bang that echoed from within the throne room. The guard returned, his earlier blank expression now marred with embarrassment.
"The Queen has only one daughter, Princess Ebere," he said stiffly, his tone strained but respectful. "She has no business with any other...'daughter.'"
The housekeeper's heart sank. The Queen's rejection was clear, her words leaving no room for interpretation. He considered going to the King instead. After all, the King had shown a resemblance of affection for Nnenna in the past. But he quickly dismissed the thought. Even the King, despite his rare moments of kindness, often chose to ignore her existence altogether.
With a heavy heart, the housekeeper turned away from the throne room, gripping his phone tightly. The joy from the news of Nnenna's recovery had dimmed, replaced by a bitter reminder of the royal family's cold indifference toward the girl who had suffered so much.
The housekeeper hurriedly gathered his belongings, his mind preoccupied with the Queen's cold dismissal. As he was about to step off the castle grounds, a car suddenly screeched to a halt in front of him. The air was thick with the acrid smell of burning tires.
"Are you trying to get yourself killed?" Prince Obinna barked, his voice sharp with irritation. His heart still pounded from how close he had come to hitting the old man.
The housekeeper staggered back, clutching his chest as he steadied his breath. "No, Your Highness," he managed, his voice trembling slightly. After a few calming breaths, he continued, "I was in a hurry to get to the hospital. Your sister just woke up."
Prince Obinna's brows furrowed in concern. "Ebere woke up in the hospital? I didn't even know she was sick!" His voice rose with worry.
The housekeeper opened his mouth to clarify, but the prince had already opened the passenger door and gestured impatiently. "What are you waiting for? Get in! We're going to see her now."
Before he could protest, the younger man pulled him into the luxurious car and sped off toward the royal hospital.
The royal hospital was a grand structure reserved for nobles and a handful of carefully selected commoners, boasting the best medical care in the kingdom. It stood as a testament to the strange union of modernity and tradition in a world where monarchies still ruled supreme. Technology like cars and phones had seamlessly integrated into this society, but the grandeur and regality of a bygone era remained untouched.
The prince barely waited for the car to stop before bolting out, dragging the housekeeper along. They burst through the double doors, the polished tiles echoing under their hurried steps.