THE NORTHERN KING

“What do you mean you want to go out using that?” Catylen asked as she blocked the door, she was wearing a brown silk gown that had a low curve around the chest that revealed a lot of skin for someone who was about to get married.

Ivo sat in a wooden wheelchair, he had sent a draft to the royal smiths to make it, and he must admit, for an invention that they had never seen before, they did a fine job, he wasn't going to be stuck in this room forever, going back to that forsaken island wasn't his plan yet.

He had to move round the iron castle and plan his movements, the night moves prevented a lot of things.

“Catylen please move out of the way” Ivo replied here as he gestured for Melisa to push him forward, she refused to move, but Melisa didn't stop either as she grabbed the chair by the side to stop it.

“If you really want to go out in that, why don't you let me move you around?” she suggested, but Ivo simply shook his head

“Melisa is doing a good job already besides don't you have your tea parties to attend” Ivo replied, but before she could say anything the duo were already out the door and rolling down the hallway.

Ivo took a light laugh as they rolled away, Melisa just stared at him and wondered what he enjoyed? But she never asked and that what was Ivo liked about her, she never asked any questions.

From his memories, he could remember that they were in the west wing of the castle for guests and visitors but not on the east wing that was the royal family, if it was the former Ivo he won't take it too much to heart but not fort who knew that in this world every small gesture had a meaning whether subtle or not.

“Where are we going, master?” Melisa asked as she made another turn on Ivo's instruction.

“The library,” Ivo replied.

“Library?” she asked with utter surprise.

“What?” Ivo asked.

“You never read master, you say it bores you” Melisa replied.

“Well not anymore besides I have something important to check out” Ivo replied as he closed his eyes and turned the cold steel walls on their next turn, and he saw—felt, heard; he could never tell, but he knew who melted that steel and who laid it there, he felt the heat as the metal was burned into place, and he felt the sweat roll down his neck.

This had been going on for the past one month since he had been awake, he could feel the residue of things from past events, not just things—if he cleared his head enough he could peek at people's past by just glances from their perspective and he had been doing test runs with books, and his primary target his wife to be.

For some reason he found it fascinating, he could feel what the writer of the book felt when he wrote that chapter, word, or even the book from just picking it up, and he could tell what a spoon was made from and even used for when he picked it up, but it was limited, most of the information were never complete and some mixed up that he had to sort them out especially with people,

But he couldn't complain, he had the information about the entire book as he had read the seven kingdoms a million times, and now he also acquired a gift—he knew that gifts were rare, and he could use any help he could get.

He was lost in thoughts when they came to stop, Ivo looked up to see a familiar face which wasn't really bringing any good memories, his memories, and Ivo's had fused, and he had been having issues knowing which is which, sometimes he found himself forgetting who he was and slipping back as the old Ivo.

So he had to constantly remind himself of how much he hated these characters and how much they didn't deserve the throne, it was a silly motion to throw away his life for a character he fell in love with in a book, but it was the only thing that kept him moving.

“Good morning Ivo” the soft kind voice called out, Ivo would have been pleased, if only the owner of the voice was actually kind and soft, Ivo gazed down at the figure, taking in the striking features—raven-black hair, piercing golden pupils, and a chiseled, handsome face that seemed almost too delicate to hurt a fly. Yet despite his slender, tall figure and innocent appearance, Ivo knew better.

He wore his black hair slicked back, revealing a chiseled face. A crisp white sleeve peeked out from beneath his imperial red leather jacket, adorned with golden buttons that shimmered in the light. A raven-shaped metal clip—the royal family's seal. Gleamed on his chest like a badge of honor. His black pants were well tailored, and high brown boots encased his legs, complete with a long golden blade hoisted at his side. With his regal attire and confident demeanor, he looked every bit the hero in every fairy tale and the dream prince of every girl’s fantasies.

His mind went back to the novel characters he tried to remember his name, the figure gave him a smile and moved behind him as he took over pushing Ivo's chair and then Ivo remembered why he was the most dangerous character in the book.

Edric Heinrich.

He was the oldest child and the crowned prince, vicious, calculative and sneaky. That was how Ivo summed him up, he hated Ivo the most and was the primary reason Ivo took his life but not anymore, he wasn't going to have his way anymore.

“How are you feeling today, brother?” Edric asked with the smile still on his face, Melisa walked behind them as she looked at the prince with deep hatred.

“I've never been better brother” Ivo replied as he turned to him with a smile.

“I though I will never see you walk or rather get pushed around these halls again, but bless the crown and the Pentakratos that you are alive” Edric replied.

“I thought the same, and you realized how things change, one minute you lay in a bed drawing your last and the next you are enjoying t

he beauties of the world”.