"But what?" Lady Ckyan leaned in, clearly engrossed in the conversation.
"But that person can also be used as a weapon.... who could kill anyone. So! Let me do further research on that," Oliver replied, his tone serious.
"Well, doctors are technically healers, right? So what's the difference with this one?" Charls asked, voicing the question that had been on his mind.
"Doctors use apparatus and medicines to treat and heal their patients. This ancient type of healer uses magic… or more precisely, energy, to cure any disease," Oliver explained, pausing to let the weight of that statement sink in.
"But… don't let anyone know about this, or he could be in danger. I'm not entirely sure of this yet. I'll find the book and study the matter further," Oliver added, his expression grave.
"Thank you for coming all the way here, Oliver. Sorry for the trouble," Charls said politely.
Doctor Oliver nodded and left, leaving Charls and Lady Ckyan alone in the room.
"So… you found him, huh?" Lady Ckyan asked, sitting beside Charls on the bed.
"Found who?" Charls asked, a confused look crossing his face.
"You know… Allen," she said calmly.
"What about him?"
"Well… you let him hold you, and on top of that, you allowed him to touch your hands," his mother said matter-of-factly.
"So… what about it? Where are you going with this conversation, Mom?" Charls asked, a note of annoyance creeping into his voice.
"You usually wouldn't let anyone touch you, let alone hold you. Is Allen the only exception?"
Thinking back to the night Allen had gotten drunk, Charls recalled how he had helped Allen through everything. He hadn't minded holding Allen at all. Now that he thought about it, it felt strange… yet comforting that it had been okay for Allen to touch him.
"I don't even know where this conversation is going. I should rest. You should too. Dad will officially meet Allen later, right?" Charls said turning his back on his mother.
"Right. And if you want to talk about it, you can tell me anything, anytime, okay? Love you," Lady Ckyan said, leaving the room to prepare for the family gathering.
Charls remained still, replaying his mother's words in his mind. He asked himself what was happening inside him. The last time he had felt this way was long ago, so long that the memory now stung less but it still lingered, vivid and clear, of the person who had once moved his heart and taught him it was okay to open up to someone.
Finished with his preparations, Charls headed downstairs, where Allen was waiting on the stairway.
"G-good morning, Master. How are you feeling?" Allen asked nervously.
"Morning. Feeling better, thanks to you. Are you alright?"
"Yes… ahh! Let me check your wrist… ahhm… i-is that okay?" Allen hesitated, almost touching Charls' hand.
Charls didn't say anything but he extended his hands and letting himself be touched.
"Hmm… hmm… okay… okay… your pulse seems fine now," Allen said, pressing a hand to Charls' forehead. "Your temperature's good too." Charls was shocked by Allen's confidence, but he maintained his composure.
"Let's go. They're waiting for us," Charls said, walking ahead of Allen.
"Walking up and down like this must be quite the exercise for the people living in this mansion… and it's like a maze," he murmured aloud as they reached the first floor, heading toward the dining hall.
"Mom, we're here. Where's Dad?" Charls called as Allen followed him inside.
"Oh! Hi! Come, sit both of you. Your father will be here any minute. By the way, how are you feeling, Allen?" Lady Ckyan greeted warmly.
"I'm good, ma'am. Thank you for asking," Allen replied, contemplating where to sit.
"That's good. Come and sit beside Charls. I hope you both get along well," Lady Ckyan said, smiling sincerely.
A man entered, wearing a suit and a friendly smile. Allen rose from his seat.
"Ahhh… this must be Mr. Allen Queen. Nice to meet you," he said, extending a hand.
"The pleasure is mine, Mr. Rois," Allen replied, taking Lord Cesareo's hand.
"I've heard about what happened earlier. Thank you for helping our son," Cesareo said, still holding Allen's hand.
"I'm glad I could help," Allen said humbly.
"Okay! Let's sit and eat," the Master of the house finally letting go of Allen's hand. "So, how's work?"
"Good," Charls muttered, a very short reply.
"Seriously?? Both of you, stop it! We're eating so don't talk about business here," Lady Ckyan scolded the two men.
"Yes, ma'am," they replied in unison, a synchronized response that made her smile.
"Good. So, Allen, where are you from?"
Allen paused mid-bite. "I'm from LA, ma'am."
"Stop being so polite you can call me Mom," Lady Ckyan said warmly.
"Ah? Ye-yes… Ma-mom," Allen said shyly. Thinking is she always this friendly?
"Are you still with your parents? I mean… living with them?"
"I'm with my mom. But for now, I live alone in my apartment," Allen explained.
"Oh… okay. So where's your mother?"
"She's helping at an orphanage in LA. Everyone there is like family. We help the kids go to school until they graduate," Allen said, his heart swelling.
"That's very nice. I want to help too. Can I?" Lady Ckyan asked eagerly.
"O-of course! That would be awesome! It would be great if you could visit when you're available... the kids would really love it," Allen replied with genuine happiness.
"Okay!" Lady Ckyan exclaimed, her delight clear. She was already looking forward to meeting them.
Breakfast passed pleasantly, filled with small talk and laughter.
"You should rest now. We'll talk again later," Charls told Allen.
For the rest of the day, Allen stayed mostly in his room, only going out for meals.
His phone rang a couple of times before he answered
"Mom? It's been a while. how are you?" Allen greeted his mother.
"I called because I know you'd worry, everything is fine now so don't be too shocked. I didn't want to tell you this but I have to," she began, her voice heavy. Allen felt his heart sink.
"What happened?!" he asked, jumping to his feet.
"See? You haven't even heard it yet," she said gently.
"Mom!"
"Yeah… it's about Brent. He was in an accident earlier, but he's okay," she said.
"What the hell happened?!" Allen shouted, panic rising. His chest tightened as a dozen terrible possibilities rushed through his mind. The kids were like siblings to him, family in every way that mattered and the thought of one of them getting hurt sent a cold wave of fear through him. He gripped his hair, bracing himself for whatever she was about to say next.
"It was a hit-and-run. He can't use his right hand for one to two months because he fractured his wrist. He also has a deep scrape across his shoulder, and it was dislocated when the car almost hit him," she explained.
"It was that bad?!" Allen shouted, his voice rising with alarm. "Where's the perpetrator?! Did the police catch the bastard? Are they even looking for him? Let me talk to Brent!"
"Calm down, he's sleeping because of a fever. The doctor said he needs rest for now. I'll call you again when he wakes up," she said.
"Okay… thank you for letting me know," Allen said, though his hands were trembling so badly he had to clench them together to steady himself after saying goodbye to his mother.
'That idiot… not taking care of himself again! Dammit! Arrrggh! I'm so pissed!' he thought, his jaw tightening as anger and worry twisted together in his chest. He could already picture Brent brushing off the pain and pretending he was fine, just like always.
"Sir? Is there any problem?" the maid asked cautiously when she heard shouting inside Allen's room.
"It's nothing," Allen replied quietly, forcing his voice to sound calm even though his heart was still racing. But sleep wouldn't come that night. He lay awake staring at the ceiling, replaying the conversation over and over. His mind was restless, burning with worry and frustration, desperate to go home and see his family.