Theo didn’t speak much after that night.

  He returned to the Harrington Humantarian Foundation the very next morning and never really left. The staff grew used to seeing the lights in his office burning well past midnight. Files piled up on his desk. Briefings, crisis responses, new outreach programs—he volunteered for every task, approved every proposal, signed off on things no one even asked him to look at.

  It was as if he was trying to outrun his own thoughts.

  Day bled into night without pause. Julien would bring him food, only for it to go cold on the untouched tray beside him. He refused all invitations, ignored every social call, and shut down any mention of Ravensford.

  He didn’t say Cassius’ name. Not once.

  But it lingered everywhere.

  In the silence between meetings. In the way he stared too long at nothing. In the spare key he kept in his desk drawer—Theo’s only secret, the one thing he couldn’t part with.

  People said he looked sharper than ever—focused, commanding, tireless. But behind the polished surface, he was unraveling.

  He just didn’t have time to fall apart.

  ---

  Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned to months.

  Theo remained buried in his work, drowning himself in endless tasks. His office became his whole world—documents to review, agreements to sign, emails flooding in faster than he could respond. He barely noticed time passing.

  Then one evening, Edric arrived unannounced.

  Theo barely looked up. “If this is about dinner, I don’t have time.”

  Edric didn’t respond right away. Instead, he took in the state of the office—stacks of paperwork, unopened mail, and a schedule so packed it seemed impossible.

  “When are you coming home?” Edric finally asked.

  Theo exhaled, rubbing his temples. “This is home. Right now, this is all I have time for.” He gestured to his desk, to the workload crushing him. “I can’t just stop, Edric. There’s too much to do.”

  Edric watched him for a long moment before quietly setting something down in front of him—a folded tabloid.

  Theo frowned. “What is this?”

  “I don’t know if you’ve seen it, but it came out after you returned.”

  Theo hesitated before flipping it open. The bold headline made his breath hitch.

  PRINCE CASSIUS SPEAKS OUT: ROYAL CONFERENCE SHOCKS RAVENSFORD

  His stomach twisted. Before he could react, Edric tapped on his phone and pressed play on a video.

  A familiar voice filled the room.

  Theo’s world narrowed to the screen.

  Prince Cassius stood before a row of microphones, his expression composed, but his eyes—his eyes were nothing but raw emotion.

  Theo swallowed hard.

  The video played.

  Cassius took a slow breath, then said, “There is something I need to say.”

  Theo’s hands clenched.

  Cassius had always been poised, always perfect in public. But right now? He looked like a man standing on the edge of something irreversible.

  Theo wasn’t sure he was ready to hear what came next.

  ---

  Cassius stood behind the podium, cameras flashing in relentless bursts as the press conference began. His posture was faultless, royal. But to Theo, watching from the glow of a tablet screen, he looked like a ghost wearing Cassius’ skin.

  Cassius unfolded the paper in front of him. No emotion, no hesitation—just words rehearsed, pre-approved, and stripped of the soul behind them.

  > “Good afternoon. I want to begin by extending my deepest apologies to the people of Ravensford. My recent behavior was unbecoming of my station and did not reflect the values of this monarchy.”

  “I take full responsibility for my conduct, and I understand the disappointment I have caused. As the heir to the Ravensford crown, I am held to a higher standard. I did not meet that standard. I will, moving forward.”

  “Effective immediately, I will be working with several national and international charities under the guidance of the Crown Council. This is not only an effort to repair what has been broken but to refocus my purpose on what truly matters: service.”

  “My actions were not reflective of the future I intend to build for this country. I promise to do better. I will not let my people down again.”

  He bowed his head slightly. The cameras clicked. The press didn’t ask questions—they weren’t allowed to.

  The screen dimmed. Silence hovered like fog in Theo’s office.

  He didn’t move. He didn’t blink. His eyes were fixed on the black screen, as if he could still see Cassius standing there.

  Edric stood beside him, arms folded, hesitant. “Theo…”

  No response.

  Edric’s voice softened. “Did you hear what he said? They made him say he was wrong. For loving you. For choosing you.”

  Theo still didn’t move. He just picked up a pen and started flipping through another document from the towering stack beside him, like the video had never played.

  “Theo,” Edric tried again, quieter now, “You don’t have to pretend it doesn’t hurt.”

  Still nothing.

  And for the first time in a long while, Prince Edric Harrington—future king, master of poise, voice of control—had no more words to give. Because what could he say to someone who had stopped letting themselves feel?

  ---

  "For god’s sake, Theo, tell me what the fuck happened that night!"

  Edric’s voice echoed through the office, raw and desperate. His control—his ever-present, carefully measured restraint—was gone. Shattered.

  "You returned from Ravensford, burst into tears, passed out, and then—you said nothing. You woke up after two days and walked straight in here, shut the door, and buried yourself in work. It’s been weeks! Months!"

  Theo didn’t look up. His hands moved with mechanical precision, flipping through the document in front of him, pen in hand, as if Edric wasn’t even in the room.

  "At least let me know," Edric pleaded, voice quieter but no less urgent. "So I can help you."

  Theo exhaled slowly, setting his pen down. He closed the file. Finally, his gaze lifted—but not to Edric. He stared past him, as if speaking the words to the air itself.

  "I left him."

  Edric stilled, his breath catching in his throat.

  "What?"

  Theo blinked once, twice. Then, with a voice so calm it almost sounded like resignation, he repeated, "I left him, Edric."

  Edric shook his head, as if trying to grasp something impossible. "Why?"

  Theo’s lips parted slightly, but the answer came as a whisper, so quiet it barely reached Edric’s ears.

  "I didn’t want him to choose."

  Silence.

  Theo exhaled sharply, a bitter laugh escaping him, void of humor. "The crown. The duty. It was always his priority. It had to be. I couldn’t let him stand between me and his country. No. I tend to be selfish for myself, but not for him."

  Edric’s jaw clenched, emotion burning in his eyes. "Theo..."

  Theo ignored the way his name cracked in Edric’s voice. He reached for the tablet on the desk, pressing the black screen with his thumb. The device remained dark, yet he kept staring at it, as if he could still see the image of Cassius standing at that podium, reading words that weren’t his own.

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  "At least King Edward kept his word." Theo’s voice was hollow now, stripped of warmth. "He released Cassius."

  Edric swallowed hard. "And the consequences?"

  Theo inhaled sharply, then exhaled through his nose, shoulders stiff. His fingers curled tighter around the tablet.

  "I may not step foot in Ravensford." A pause. Then, just as lifelessly, "And I can never see him again."

  The weight of those words settled between them like a final nail in a coffin.

  Edric took a slow step forward, hands balling into fists. "That’s it?" His voice trembled. "That’s all you’re going to say?"

  Theo didn’t answer.

  And that was when something in Edric broke.

  "Fucking hell, Theo!" Edric’s voice cracked as he shoved the stack of files off the desk, papers flying to the floor in a chaotic mess. "Is this what you’re going to do? Hide behind your damn work? Pretend this doesn’t matter? That he didn’t matter?"

  Theo didn’t even flinch.

  Edric dragged a hand through his hair, shaking his head, furious and devastated all at once. "You’re my brother! And I—*" His voice wavered. "I don’t know how to fix you if you won’t let me."

  Theo’s breath hitched. Just slightly. Just enough for Edric to notice.

  "Damn it, Theo." Edric’s voice was barely above a whisper now. "You don’t have to carry this alone."

  But Theo just sat there, silent, as if he had already buried himself beneath the weight of his own choices.

  And for the first time in his life, Edric Harrington—his brother, his protector, the one person who always had an answer—had no idea how to save him.

  ---

  The grand halls of Ravensford Palace had never felt this suffocating before.

  Cassius sat in his private study, the heavy silence pressing down on him like a lead weight. The sunlight filtering through the tall windows felt cold. Distant. His hands rested on the polished oak desk, fingers curled against the grain as he stared at the tablet in front of him.

  The same video. His video.

  His own face stared back at him from the screen, pale under the harsh pressroom lights. He barely recognized himself.

  "I would like to formally apologize for my recent actions. As a representative of the Crown, I failed to uphold the dignity expected of me. I assure you, I will dedicate myself to my duties, ensuring that my actions reflect the values of our great nation. I will continue my efforts in philanthropy and diplomatic service, as expected of me. I will not disappoint my people again."

  Every word was scripted. Every sentence dictated by his father’s advisors.

  Cassius had read them without faltering, voice smooth, polished, emotionless—just as they had trained him to do since childhood.

  Yet, the moment the cameras turned off, he had walked out of the room and vomited in the nearest sink.

  He had said everything they wanted to hear. Played the part. Restored his image. And for what?

  Theo was gone.

  The kingdom forgave him, but Theo was gone.

  A sharp knock on the door dragged him back to the present. He shut off the tablet before the memory could consume him further.

  "Come in." His voice was steady, betraying none of the exhaustion clawing at his ribs.

  The door opened, and Duke Francis Hartwell—his uncle, his father’s right hand—stepped inside. "Your Highness," he greeted, his tone formal as always.

  Cassius sat straighter. "What is it?"

  "You have engagements to resume. A humanitarian visit to the east sector, a diplomatic dinner next week. His Majesty expects you to attend all of them without issue." The Duke eyed him carefully. "You understand, of course."

  Cassius forced a smile. "Naturally."

  There was a pause. A beat too long. Then—

  "Theodore Harrington has returned to Bellemont," the Duke said. "He has made no comment about Ravensford since."

  Cassius didn’t react. He couldn’t. His hands remained perfectly still on the desk.

  "Good," he said, his voice clipped. "That’s how it should be."

  The Duke gave a satisfied nod and turned to leave.

  Only when the door clicked shut did Cassius finally exhale, slow and quiet. He lifted a hand to his chest, pressing against the dull ache that refused to subside.

  Good.

  That’s what he kept telling himself.

  Then why did it feel like he had lost everything?

  ---

  Edric let out a breath, stepping closer to Theo’s desk. His voice dropped, losing its earlier sharpness.

  "Dad is worried about you."

  Theo stilled.

  He looked up, meeting Edric’s gaze.

  A humorless chuckle slipped past his lips. "He disowned me. Remember?" His fingers tapped absently against the desk. "I left the palace the night he said that if I walked out, he’d take my title."

  Edric’s expression didn’t change. "Theo, if he meant what he said—do you really think you’d still be here?"

  Theo opened his mouth, then closed it.

  The room was too quiet now. The weight of Edric’s words settled in, pressing against him like an invisible force.

  Theo turned away, staring at the endless stack of documents in front of him. "He hasn't spoken to me since."

  "And you haven’t spoken to him either," Edric countered. "You act like it’s over, like there’s nothing left. But Theo, he’s still Dad."

  Theo scoffed. "Dad made his priorities clear."

  "And so did you," Edric shot back. "You walked away, just like you walked away from Cassius."

  Theo’s fingers curled into fists. "That’s different."

  "Is it?"

  Silence.

  Edric sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. "Look, I know you think you have to handle everything alone. You always do. But shutting everyone out isn’t going to fix this. It’s not going to make the pain go away." He hesitated. "We don’t want you to disappear, Theo. Not me, not Dad, and—" He hesitated, voice faltering. "Not Cassius."

  Theo inhaled sharply.

  Edric didn’t push further. He simply placed a hand on the desk, fingers tapping lightly against the wood. "Come home."

  Theo didn’t answer.

  Edric exhaled, stepping back toward the door. "Just think about it." Then, softer, "Please."

  And then he was gone, leaving Theo alone with his thoughts.

  With the silence.

  And with the weight of everything he had lost.

  ---

  Theo finally shut the lights in his office. The room, once buzzing with the hum of overwork, was now swallowed in darkness.

  For the first time in weeks, he stepped outside.

  The night air was crisp, the city quiet in a way that made him feel even more untethered. As he reached the sidewalk, his car was already waiting—Julien standing beside it, as if he had been anticipating this moment.

  Julien’s eyes widened slightly in surprise when he saw Theo approach. He straightened instantly, then hurried forward.

  “Palace, Your Highness?”

  Theo didn’t hesitate. He gave a single nod.

  Julien studied him for a second, as if searching for something, before nodding in return. “Understood.”

  He opened the door.

  Theo slid into the car, exhaling as he leaned back against the seat. The exhaustion sat heavy in his bones, but for the first time, he allowed himself to feel it.

  Julien got into the driver’s seat. The car pulled away from the curb, the city lights blurring past.

  Theo didn’t look out the window.

  He didn’t have to.

  He already knew where he was going.

  ---

  Theo stepped through the grand entrance of the palace, the familiar scent of polished wood and aged stone filling his senses. The towering chandeliers cast a golden glow over the marble floors, and for the first time in years, the sight of it didn’t suffocate him.

  Instead, it felt like relief.

  The distant murmur of voices carried through the halls. Whispers from the staff—soft, uncertain.

  "Prince Theodore has returned."

  The words spread like wildfire, carried from one maid to another, from the halls to the kitchens, to the ears of those who had seen him leave and wondered if he ever would return.

  Footsteps pounded against the floor.

  Theo barely had time to turn before a figure rushed toward him.

  Edric.

  His older brother’s arms wrapped around him in an instant, strong and steady, as if anchoring him in place.

  Theo stiffened at first, unprepared for the warmth, the familiarity. But then, he let go.

  His hands clutched at the back of Edric’s coat, his breath shaky against his brother’s shoulder.

  “Welcome home, brother,” Edric murmured, voice tight with emotion.

  Edric led Theo through the quiet corridors of the palace, his grip firm on Theo’s wrist, as if afraid he’d disappear again.

  When they reached the dining hall, Theo expected the usual—an extravagant meal laid out on the long table, golden cutlery polished to perfection. Instead, the massive room was dimly lit, and at the very center of the table sat two bowls of ice cream. No elaborate dishes, no silver domes hiding a royal feast. Just two simple servings of ice cream, slowly melting under the chandelier’s glow.

  Theo froze at the sight.

  He hadn’t had ice cream like this since they were kids—since the nights when things felt too heavy, when the weight of the crown pressed too hard against his chest. Their mother used to bring him here, sitting him down with a bowl of his favorite vanilla ice cream, telling him that even princes deserved something sweet after a bitter day.

  Theo exhaled slowly, lowering himself into the chair across from Edric.

  “You remembered,” he murmured.

  Edric handed him a spoon. “Of course, I did.”

  They ate in silence at first. The cold sweetness melted on Theo’s tongue, a contrast to the tightness in his chest.

  Then, Edric spoke. “You know, Dad used to wait up every night after you left.”

  Theo’s spoon paused midair. “He made it clear he didn’t want me back.”

  Edric scoffed lightly. “He said a lot of things. But I’d find him here, sitting in this very chair, staring at the door like an idiot.”

  Theo swallowed, setting his spoon down. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Edric.”

  “I don’t need you to say anything.” Edric’s voice softened. “Just… stop punishing yourself.”

  Theo let out a quiet, humorless laugh. “I’m not punishing myself.”

  Edric gave him a pointed look. “You work yourself to exhaustion, bury yourself in responsibilities, and refuse to come home. What would you call that?”

  Theo didn’t answer.

  Edric sighed, pushing his half-melted ice cream aside. “Look, I’m not asking you to forget what happened. But you don’t have to carry everything alone, Theo. Not anymore.”

  Theo clenched his jaw, his gaze fixed on the table. His fingers curled around the edge of the bowl. “I don’t know how to come back from this.”

  Edric reached across the table, placing a hand over Theo’s. “Then let me help you.”

  For the first time in weeks, Theo didn’t pull away.

  ---

  As they sat in the quiet warmth of the dining hall, the faint sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor. At first, Theo ignored it, thinking it was just a passing attendant, but then the footsteps grew louder—closer—more urgent.

  Edric turned his head just as the double doors burst open.

  The Queen stood there first, breathless, her eyes wide with disbelief. Behind her, the King, usually composed and regal, was almost running to catch up, his expression unreadable.

  Before Theo could even process it, his mother rushed forward and wrapped him in a tight embrace.

  “Theo,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You’re back.”

  Theo stiffened for a moment, caught off guard. He had expected anger, a cold welcome, maybe even silence—but not this. Not the way she held him as if afraid he’d disappear again.

  His hands hovered in the air before he slowly, hesitantly, returned the embrace. The scent of her familiar perfume, the warmth of her arms—it hit him all at once.

  “You’re back,” she repeated, her grip tightening, as if she needed to convince herself he was real.

  Theo swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat. “I’m here, Mother.”

  The King stepped forward, his gaze sharp but not unkind. There was something heavy in his eyes, something Theo couldn’t quite decipher.

  “You’re back, son.” His voice was steady, but Theo caught the slight crack in it.

  Theo straightened, breaking away from his mother’s hold. He met his father’s gaze, waiting for what would come next.

  The King studied him for a long moment before exhaling. “Come home properly this time.”

  It wasn’t a demand. It wasn’t a reprimand. It was an invitation.

  Theo felt Edric’s reassuring presence beside him, his mother’s warmth lingering, and his father’s words hanging in the air.

  For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t sure what to say.

  The room felt smaller than Theo remembered, not because of its size but because of how closely they all sat together—pressed shoulder to shoulder, like they were afraid any space between them would mean losing him again.

  His mother sat beside him, her hand resting on his lap, fingers curled gently as if to keep him in place. There was no tight grip, no force—just a silent plea, a fear that if she let go, he might slip away again.

  Theo exhaled slowly, glancing across the room at his father, who sat directly opposite him. The King’s expression was unreadable, but his gaze never wavered.

  “So,” Theo started, leaning back slightly, “you’re not going to talk about how you were going to take my title? Or disown me? Or erase me from the family register and pretend I never existed?”

  A beat of silence. Then, unexpectedly, a soft chuckle escaped Edric.

  Their mother let out a breath that sounded half like a sigh, half like a laugh. Even the King’s lips twitched, though he masked it quickly.

  Theo arched a brow. “That’s it? A laugh?”

  His father leaned forward slightly, clasping his hands together. “If I had truly erased you from the family, do you think you’d be sitting here right now?”

  Theo huffed. “You were convincing enough at the time.”

  “I had to be,” the King admitted. “You don’t listen otherwise.”

  Edric snorted. Their mother shot a look at her husband, though the small smile she failed to suppress gave her away.

  Theo shook his head, rubbing a hand over his face. “Unbelievable.”

  His mother squeezed his knee lightly. “You’re home now. That’s all that matters.”

  And for the first time in a long time, Theo let himself believe it.

  The King’s voice cut through the warmth of the moment, steady but weighted with something deeper.

  “You risked your title for nothing… or for something?” His gaze was sharp, searching. “What you said to me that night—was it real?”

  Theo held his father’s stare, his jaw tightening. He knew exactly what night the King was referring to. The night he walked out. The night he left behind everything, believing it was the only way to keep what little of himself remained.

  “It was real,” Theo said, voice quieter now but firm. “Every word.”

  King Alistair exhaled, sitting back in his chair. His expression remained unreadable, but the tension in his shoulders lessened just slightly.

  “Then tell me,” he continued, his tone softer now, “was it worth it?”

  Theo hesitated for only a moment before answering.

  “I don’t know yet.”

  King Alistair sighed, his fingers idly tapping against the armrest of his chair. His gaze flickered to Theo, then to the dimly lit room around them, as if weighing his words carefully.

  "I know Edward," he began, his voice quieter now, more reflective. "He and I… we were raised differently. We rule differently. I won’t pretend to understand everything about him, but I do know this—he was never going to make it easy for Cassius. Not the way I did for you."

  Theo frowned slightly, his hands curling against his lap.

  Alistair continued, his tone steady but laced with something knowing. "I never held you back, Theo. When you told me you wanted to build your foundation, I let you. Not because it was easy, but because I saw what it meant to you. I saw the way it made you feel alive. The crown…" He paused, exhaling slowly. "The crown comes first for men like Edward. But for me? I wanted my children to have the choice. To find something that made them happy, something they loved."

  Theo swallowed hard, his father’s words settling heavily in his chest.

  Alistair studied him for a moment before leaning forward. "That’s why I never stopped you, Theo. And it’s why I won’t stop you now—whatever it is you’re fighting for."

  Queen Eleanor smiled softly, her fingers still resting lightly on Theo’s lap, as if afraid he might vanish if she let go. She glanced at her husband, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes.

  “You think your father is any different from you?” she mused, her voice warm with nostalgia. “Theo, you’re just a reflection of him at your age.”

  Theo raised a skeptical brow. “I find that hard to believe.”

  Edric leaned in with interest. “Oh, this should be good.”

  The Queen chuckled. “Alistair was worse than you, my love. Stubborn, reckless, and far too romantic for his own good.”

  King Alistair scoffed, but there was no real protest in his expression. “Eleanor—”

  “No, let me tell them,” she insisted, turning back to Theo. “Your father nearly lost his title once, too. Not for a scandal, but because he was ready to walk away from it all for love.”

  Theo blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

  Edric looked equally surprised. “You mean… for you?”

  She nodded. “Yes. The court didn’t approve of me at first. They thought I wasn’t suited for him—too headstrong, too modern. The council urged him to reconsider.”

  “And what did he do?” Theo asked, his voice quieter now.

  Eleanor glanced at her husband, her eyes filled with a familiar fondness. “He told them if they forced him to choose, he’d step away from the throne.”

  Theo’s breath hitched slightly. It was a story he had never heard before, a part of his father’s past that had never been spoken aloud.

  “I was lucky,” Alistair admitted after a beat of silence. “My father—your grandfather—understood. He let me fight for what I wanted.” He met Theo’s gaze. “I don’t know if Edward would do the same for Cassius.”

  A silence stretched between them before Eleanor let out a small, knowing laugh. “See? You come by it honestly, Theo.”

  Theo let out a short chuckle, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you never told me this.”

  “We all have untold stories,” Eleanor said gently, squeezing his hand.

  And just like that, the tension eased. The air around them grew lighter, and laughter soon filled the space. They shared more stories—memories from childhood, old rivalries, moments of defiance. For the first time in what felt like forever, Theo wasn’t a prince burdened by expectations. He was just a son, a brother, sitting among the people who loved him most.

  That night, the palace didn’t feel suffocating. It felt like home.