Chapter 21: Strange Warmth

After going back to the bathroom and dousing himself in a cold shower in a desperate attempt to get rid of the strange hard-on that refused to go away no matter how many unsexy thoughts he forced himself to think, Basil left his suite with a single goal in mind.

The sooner he spoke to Linda, the sooner he could get answers, and the sooner he could get out of here. He had no desire to experience a repeat of whatever the hell had happened between him and Darius.

For weeks, his thoughts had been circling the same questions. What had been the real reason she swapped the babies? Because he refused to believe her pathetic excuse about wanting Basil to have a better life. It sounded ridiculous. No matter how much he thought about it, the explanation simply didn’t make sense. People did not destroy multiple lives, risk imprisonment, and carry a secret for over two decades out of simple because they wanted a better future for someone their daughter’s son. There had to be more to it than that.

And most importantly, who was his father?

The question had been eating at him ever since the truth came out.

His mother was dead. The woman who had raised him was not his mother at all, and the nanny who had always indulged and cared for him was actually his grandmother. Every piece of what he thought he knew about himself had been ripped apart one revelation at a time.

And now he was discovering he apparently had a thing for being ordered around by an infuriating lunatic.

Yeah. His life was rapidly becoming a disaster.

He needed answers, and he needed them fast before something else happened that completely shattered what little remained of his sanity.

The palace hallways were quieter than usual as he descended the grand staircase leading toward the lower floors. He really hoped the guards stationed at the cells would not make things difficult for him now that he was no longer the prince. The palace servants were already doing that. The last thing he wanted was to go to the King and inadvertently reveal his plans. He needed to get his answers before anyone found out what he was doing.

Basil was halfway down the next flight of stairs when a burst of excited voices drifted up from below.

"...I’m telling you, that’s exactly what happened."

Basil slowed.

A pair of maids stood near the base of the staircase, carrying folded linens between them. Neither had noticed him yet.

"My hands are still shaking just thinking about it," a maid named Clara whispered, her voice still tight with lingering panic. "When Prince Darius looked at me, I genuinely thought he was going to snap my wrists right there in the hall. He didn’t even yell at first. He just leaned down and told me I wouldn’t like what came next if I didn’t answer him."

Basil paused, his hand tightening around the iron railing. Darius did what?

"You’re lucky he only made us re-serve the food on the heated cart," the other maid replied in a hushed voice.

Basil couldn’t remember her name. She must have been one of the Queen’s attendants. "To think we actually believed he was better than Prince Basil."

"Give me Prince Basil’s arrogance and sharp tongue any day," Clara said immediately. "I’ll take that over Prince Darius. At least with Prince Basil, you know when he’s angry. Prince Darius just smiles at you, and somehow that’s even more terrifying. I’m telling you, that man is crazy. Completely crazy. The way he looked at me, I thought I was about to meet my ancestors."

The other maid snorted.

"Well, you shouldn’t blame him. Why would you serve Prince Basil on a tray of all things? You practically had it coming."

Basil frowned.

He wasn’t entirely sure how he was supposed to feel about any of this. Part of him wanted to turn around and leave before he heard anything else. Another part wanted to stay exactly where he was and listen.

Did that mean Darius had caused all that trouble just because of a serving tray?

The thought sounded ridiculous.

What exactly was that lunatic planning?

"I pity all of you who have been disrespecting Prince Basil since the news came out," a third maid said as she approached carrying a basket of freshly folded laundry. "You’d better pray Prince Darius doesn’t come looking for you."

"Stop scaring me," Clara groaned. "How was I supposed to know he’d care that much? I thought Prince Basil was—"

She cut herself off abruptly.

Basil remained motionless on the stairs.

For several seconds, he contemplated whether to turn back or continue on his way. He still refused to believe Darius had done all that because of him.

Just as he finally decided to keep going, the second maid spoke again.

"Did any of you hear what happened in the Council Hall this afternoon?" the third maid asked eagerly. "The entire palace is talking about it. The lords were in there demanding that Prince Basil be exiled and punished for his grandmother’s treason."

Basil’s hand tightened around the iron railing. A sharp flash of anger shot through him.

Those bastards.

As if he wanted to stay here in the first place. They didn’t need to waste their breath discussing exile. He fully intended to leave on his own. The moment he got the answers he needed, he would be gone.

"But Prince Darius stormed into the meeting and told them Prince Basil wasn’t going anywhere," the maid continued. "He even called them idiots and pointed a gun at them."

What?

For a moment, Basil genuinely wondered if he had heard her correctly. That couldn’t be right.

There was absolutely no way Darius had done something like that. Then again...

This was Darius they were talking about. The same man who had threatened to force-feed him lunch. The same man who had casually talked about chaining him to a bed. The same man who had somehow turned eating a meal into the most confusing experience of Basil’s life. That boy was an actual lunatic.

He hadn’t even spent a full day in the palace, and he was already terrorizing servants, threatening councilors, and apparently waving firearms around royal meetings.

Honestly, Basil wasn’t even surprised anymore.

"You’re making that up," Clara said immediately. "There is no way that happened."

"Why would I make it up?" the maid shot back. "Apparently, Lord Harrington suggested Prince Basil should be exiled, and Lord Beaumont called Prince Basil an impostor. Prince Darius didn’t like it one bit. He completely lost it on them."

Clara’s eyes widened.

"Oh my God. That means he actually wants Prince Basil around."

"More than that," the maid replied. "From the look of things, Prince Darius cares more about Prince Basil than anyone else in this palace. If anyone so much as looks at Prince Basil the wrong way, he seems ready to declare war over it. So all of you who have been treating Prince Basil unfairly should probably start watching your backs."

The conversation continued, but Basil didn’t hear another word. Slowly, he turned around.

He had heard enough. The trip to the cells could wait. His thoughts were in complete disarray as he made his way back to his suite.

By the time he entered and shut the door behind him, his mind was still struggling to process everything he had just heard.

None of it made any sense.

What exactly was Darius trying to prove by doing all this?

Did he genuinely care about him?

The possibility should have been ridiculous. Instead, it lingered stubbornly in the back of his mind and filled him with a strange warmth he was almost afraid to examine too closely.

The thought that Darius had openly stood up for him in front of the entire Crown Council refused to leave him alone.

What was he trying to gain from doing all that?