GHOSTLY Kingdom

CHAPTER 23:change Of Heart!?

Don't really have much to say but yeah enjoy next chapter chapter 24: truly changed

George reluctantly packed his belongings, his hands trembling as he placed books and clothes into his bag. His brothers' words echoed in his mind, and the heavy burden of their father's plan weighed on his shoulders. As he turned to leave the castle, a chill ran down his spine.

"Do you really want to do this, George?" a voice whispered.

George froze, his eyes wide with fear. He knew that voice—Henry's voice. Slowly, he turned around, but there was no one there. Shaking his head, he tried to dismiss the thought and continued his way to the stables. However, the voice came again, clearer and more persistent.

"Is this something you would do, George?"

George stopped again, looking around in panic. "Who’s there?" he called out, his voice shaky.

"Your conscience, perhaps. Or maybe just a ghost from your past," the voice answered. This time, Henry's spectral form appeared, faint and shimmering in the moonlight.

"Henry..." George whispered, stepping back in shock.

"Why do you follow their orders, George? Do you not have a mind of your own?" Henry's ghost asked, his eyes piercing into George's soul.

"I—I have to do this. Father ordered it. Sam and Anthony expect it," George stammered, trying to gather his thoughts.

"But what do you expect of yourself?" Henry challenged, moving closer. "Do you really want to hurt Octavia? Do you really want to bring more pain and suffering to the kingdom?"

George felt a lump form in his throat. He had always been the obedient one, the one who followed orders without question. But now, standing before the ghost of the brother he once loved, he felt a surge of doubt.

"I don't know what to do," George admitted, his voice breaking. "I’m scared, Henry. I’m scared of what will happen if I don’t do as they say."

Henry's ghost softened, a sad smile forming on his lips. "Fear is a powerful thing, George. But so is love. So is doing what’s right, even when it's hard."

George felt tears well up in his eyes. "But how do I know what's right?"

"Listen to your heart," Henry said gently. "You’ve always had a good heart, George. It’s what made you different from the others. Don’t let them corrupt it."

"But they’re my family," George protested weakly.

"Family doesn’t force you to do things that go against your nature," Henry countered. "Family supports you, guides you, loves you. They don’t manipulate you into committing more crimes."

George looked down at his hands, remembering all the times he had been coerced into actions he wasn’t proud of. He had always felt a sense of wrongness, a gnawing guilt that he could never shake off. And now, with Henry’s ghost confronting him, that guilt was overwhelming.

"What should I do then?" George asked, desperation in his voice.

"Make your own choices. Decide for yourself what’s right and what’s wrong. If you truly believe that retrieving that book will save the kingdom, then do it. But if you think it’s just another part of Father’s manipulative game, then don’t," Henry advised.

George took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. "I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore. I want to make things right."

"Then start by being honest with yourself and with others," Henry said. "Tell Octavia the truth. She deserves to know. And maybe, just maybe, she can help you find a way out of this mess."

George nodded, feeling a strange sense of relief wash over him. "Thank you, Henry. I’ll try to do what’s right."

Henry’s ghost smiled warmly. "That’s all anyone can ask for, George. Remember, I’m always with you, guiding you. Trust yourself."

As Henry’s ghost faded away, George felt a newfound resolve. He mounted his horse and began the journey to the North, but this time, his heart was lighter. He had made a decision—he would not be a pawn in his father’s schemes any longer. He would find Octavia, tell her the truth, and together they would figure out a way to bring peace to the kingdom without more bloodshed.

The ride to the North was long and arduous, but George's mind was clear. The cold wind bit at his face, but it only served to strengthen his resolve. He replayed Henry’s words in his mind, letting them guide him.

As he approached the border of the North, he saw the faint outline of the village. It was a place he had visited only once before, under much different circumstances. This time, he wasn’t here to deceive or harm. He was here to seek help, to make amends.

He dismounted his horse and walked cautiously towards the village, his heart pounding in his chest. The villagers eyed him warily, but he paid them no mind. His focus was on finding Octavia.

After what felt like an eternity, he spotted her near the market square, her face a mixture of surprise and suspicion as she recognized him. George approached her slowly, hands raised in a gesture of peace.

"Octavia, I need to talk to you," he said, his voice steady despite the fear bubbling inside him.

"Why should I listen to anything you have to say?" Octavia snapped, her eyes narrowing.

"Because I have information that could save us all. And because I’m done being my father’s puppet. Please, just hear me out," George pleaded.

Octavia studied him for a moment, then nodded reluctantly. "Alright, George. Speak. But know that I won’t be easily swayed."

George took a deep breath and began to tell her everything. About the book, the kingdom, his father's manipulations, and Henry's ghost. He spoke with honesty and conviction, hoping that she could see the sincerity in his words.

As he finished, Octavia’s expression softened. "You’re taking a big risk coming here and telling me this," she said.

"I know," George replied. "But it’s a risk I’m willing to take if it means ending this cycle of violence and deceit."

Octavia nodded, a hint of a smile on her lips. "Then let’s find a way to fix this, together."

George felt a weight lift off his shoulders. For the first time in a long while, he felt hope. With Octavia’s help, he believed they could bring about the change the kingdom so desperately needed. And maybe, just maybe, he could finally find redemption.