When he does, exhaustion bleeds through every word. “I fell in love. I know that’s not always logical. It’s no excuse for the trouble I’ve caused. But I couldn’t walk away from Addison. Not when I tried. Not when everyone, especially Mother, forced me to.”
“Your reasoning is love.” The king repeats the word like he’s testingits weight. “You risked your position, your reputation, and your future forlove.”
“Yes,” Louis says without hesitation.
“You committed treason, fled the country, and defied the royal council and centuries of tradition for love.” He ticks off each offense.
“Yes.”
The king turns to me, and I sit up straighter.
“And you? You were given the opportunity of a lifetime and refused to follow the instructions given to you by the Crown. You defied orders without apology.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“That took either tremendous courage or stupidity.”
“Both,” I admit.
His mouth twitches, like he might break a smile, but doesn’t. “You knew what would happen when that painting was unveiled. You knew there would be a scandal, a fallout, and a ban. You knew there would be retaliation, but you did it anyway.”
“I did.”
“Why?” he asks.
My brain is too tired for strategy or careful diplomatic answers. So, I tell him the truth.
“Because staying silent felt like betrayal to my soul. Because if I was going to lose anyway, I wanted the world to know what we had first.” I keep my eyes locked on his. “I’d rather be banned for loving Louis than welcomed for pretending I didn’t.”
The king studies me. The clock on the mantel ticks, and somewhere beyond the windows, I hear morning birds chirping. They seem so happy.
He turns his attention to Davis, who has been sitting so still that I’m convinced he’s stopped breathing.
“Mr. Davis Duke.” The king’s voice is direct. “You helped the crown prince escape from the palace in the middle of the night. You boarded a private jet without authorization and accompanied him to a foreign country while the entire security team searched for him. That is, by any definition, treason. Hundreds of years ago, I’d have had you beheaded in the town square.”
Davis sets his teacup down with a faint rattle. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
“You could be imprisoned and stripped of your position. Followingthat would be a public disgrace, and your career would be over. Your family’s name ruined.” The king shifts closer. “You knew that when you agreed to help him.”
“I did.”
“And yet you did it anyway.” The king tilts his head. “Why?”
Davis glances at Louis, then back at the king. His shoulders straighten, and when he speaks, his voice comes out steadier than I expected.
“Because everyone else had turned their backs and ignored the wrongdoings.” Davis pauses, gathering his words. “I’ve spent my entire career protecting the Crown without questioning what that meant. But that night, I realized following orders wasn’t always the same as doing what was morally right.”
The king doesn’t respond.
“Saying no would’ve been the safe choice, but not the correct one,” Davis continues. “But I want to live a life with a clear conscience, knowing that I was a good person. No one’s orders will make me give up my personal integrity, sir.” He meets the king’s gaze directly. “I’d rather face charges, knowing I helped someone who had no one else, than spend the rest of my life knowing I didn’t.”
The room goes quiet, and the clock ticks.
The king stares at Davis for a long moment, then lets out a breath. He picks up his tea and takes a slow sip, his gaze distant. When he sets the cup back down, he’s looking at Davis with what looks like respect.
“Do you know what I’ve been doing this summer while the queen orchestrated the princess competition?” the king asks, directing the question at all of us.
Nobody answers.
