CHAPTER 15
The morning after the wedding, Grace or rather Prince Quicke woke with a jolt, gasping for air. A weight pressed against her chest as if unseen hands were gripping her lungs, forcing her breath to shallow out. She grabbed the sheets, struggling for control until the tightness suddenly eased, leaving her sprawled on the cold marble floor.
A voice still echoed in her head, calm yet piercing:
"Grace Johnson, you've come too far to keep holding onto the past. Do what you must and stop killing your inner self ".
Unlike the other times, this wasn't a warning. It wasn't a threat. It was something else. A plea? A command? She didn't know. But the sensation it left behind was unsettling.
She sat up, resting her back against the heavy oak bedpost, her heart still racing. This was different. Before, the voice had always come with a rush of wind, a forceful presence. But this time, it was still, almost intimate. She could still feel its imprint on her skin.
Grace was terrified, she had never felt this way, her wedding was the previous day and she hadn't come to the agreement of life when she said "I do". And now a gripping sensation? "C'mon be for real". She thought out loud.
She pulled herself up, gripping the edge of the dresser for support. The mirror before her reflected the face she had begun to grow accustomed to, Prince Quicke's face. But there was something else in her eyes today. A flicker of something she hadn't seen in a long time.
Hope.
She didn't know why, but it was there. A silent whisper in the depth of her gaze.
Her fingers traced the edges of the mirror as her mind drifted to Matthew Sterrn. That name. That face. She knew him. She was certain of it. But how? And from where?
A knock on the door snapped her back to reality.
"Your Highness," a voice called from outside. It was Robert.
Grace straightened her robe, forcing herself to push the lingering thoughts aside. "Enter."
Robert stepped in, looking composed as always, but there was a sharpness in his eyes today.
"Everything is in place for the post-wedding celebrations, Your Highness," he said, standing rigidly by the door.
She nodded, rubbing her temples. "Fine. Anything else?"
Robert hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Have you slept well?"
Grace narrowed her eyes. "Why do you ask?"
"You looked unsettled last night," he said carefully. "And now, you seem distracted. If something is troubling you, you can trust me to handle it."
She studied him, trying to gauge his intentions. Robert had always kept a certain distance, loyal but never overly involved. Now, he was watching her too closely.
"There's nothing to handle," she said coolly. "The wedding was a long day. That's all."
Robert held her gaze for a moment before nodding. "Very well, Your Highness. If you need anything, I'll be nearby."
As he turned to leave, Grace exhaled sharply, gripping the edges of the dresser again. She wasn't sure what unsettled her more, the voice in her dream or the way Robert was becoming invested in her all of a sudden.
The day after the royal wedding was traditionally marked by a grand gathering of nobles, a formal display of alliances and power. The banquet hall was filled with extravagant floral arrangements, golden tapestries, and chandeliers dripping with crystals. The scent of roasted meats and exotic spices lingered in the air, mingling with the sound of laughter and clinking glasses.
Juliet sat beside her, poised and graceful, playing the part of the perfect princess. She hadn't spoken much since the ceremony, but every once in a while, she would glance at Grace with an unreadable expression.
Grace, for her part, was focused on scanning the room. Faces blurred together, lords and ladies, officials, foreign delegates. But there was one person she was looking for.
Matthew Sterrn.
He was nowhere to be seen.
Her fingers tightened around the glass in her hand. He had been bold enough to approach her before. Why not now? Why vanish right after revealing he knew who she was?
She barely noticed when the King rose from his seat at the head of the table, raising a hand for silence.
"My people," King Charlenugo's voice rang through the hall. "Today marks the beginning of a new era. With my son, Prince Quicke, now wed, our kingdom grows stronger. The future is secure, and soon, when the time is right, he will take the throne."
A wave of applause filled the room.
Grace forced a smile and lifted her glass in response.
As the feast continued, a servant leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Your Highness, a letter has arrived for you. It was delivered with urgency."
Grace took the small envelope, breaking the wax seal carefully. Her hands stiffened as she unfolded the paper.
"Meet me at the flower garden. Midnight. Come alone."
No signature. No name.
But she already knew who it was.
The castle was silent as Grace slipped through the dimly lit corridors, her cloak drawn tightly around her. The flower garden was rarely visited at night, its stone walls cold and whispering with the wind.
She moved quietly into the garden . When she walked deep into it, she found him.
Matthew Sterrn.His back turned to her, the moonlight casting shadows along his sharp features.
"You came," he said without looking at her.
"You knew I would," Grace replied, her voice steady despite the storm in her chest.
Matthew finally turned, his eyes searching hers. "You're different."
Grace scoffed. "No kidding."
"You've accepted it, then? That you're stuck in this body?"
She clenched her jaw. "Acceptance isn't the word I'd use."
Matthew stepped closer, his gaze piercing. "Then what would you use?"
She didn't answer.
Instead, she folded her arms and stared him down. "Why are you here? What do you know about me?"
A slow smile curved on his lips. "More than you think."
Her patience snapped. "Enough of the riddles, Matthew. Tell me who you are and how you know me."
He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Alright. I'll tell you. But you're not going to like it."
Grace's pulse quickened.
"I know you, Grace Johnson," he said, his voice low and certain. "Because I was there the night you died."
Silence.
The words hit like a hammer to her chest.
"You're lying," she whispered.
Matthew shook his head. "No. And if you want to survive in this world, you need to listen to me. Because the people who killed you once? They will do it again."
Grace swallowed hard, every instinct screaming at her to demand answers, to push for more.
But deep down, she already knew that she had never truly been alone in this.