Chapter 30: What Crime Had He Committed?

Inside the holding cells, the corridor stretched ahead in a long line of iron bars and polished stone walls. The air felt noticeably colder down here, carrying the sterile scent of cleaning agents and recycled air. Basil footsteps echoed softly against the floor as he walked deeper into the underground wing. The holding cells were practically empty, since members of the royal family rarely had people imprisoned here unless their crimes were directly related to the Crown.

Most prisoners were transferred to the kingdom’s central prison after judgment had been passed. As he moved through the corridor, he passed a cell occupied by several prisoners. The men glanced up at him from where they sat, their conversations dying off for a moment. Basil frowned slightly.

What were they doing here?

He couldn’t remember hearing of any recent cases involving the royal family. Unless these were the men responsible for attacking Darius after he had been found. But if that was the case, shouldn’t they have already been judged and transferred to the kingdom’s central prison by now? The thought lingered briefly before he pushed it aside. It wasn’t his business. He just needed to get the answers he came for and leave. He hated this place. The cold, the silence, the smell, all of it made his skin crawl.

When he reached the second-to-last cell at the end of the corridor, he stopped and almost didn’t recognize his old nanny.

Linda looked smaller. The woman sitting on the narrow prison cot was the same woman who had raised him for twenty-one years. The same woman who had tucked him into bed as a child, pacified him whenever he misbehaved, and fussed over him whenever he so much as threw a tantrum. Yet somehow, prison had stripped something from her. The confidence was gone.

The stubbornness was gone. What remained was an exhausted old woman whose shoulders seemed permanently bowed beneath the weight of her own choices.

Basil didn’t know what to make of it.

Then Linda slowly lifted her head. The instant her eyes landed on him, her face crumpled.

"Y-Your Highness..."

The title sounded wrong coming from her.

Her trembling hands flew to her mouth. Tears flooded her eyes so quickly it was almost frightening to watch. Before Basil could react, she stumbled off the cot and dropped to her knees. "No... no..." she sobbed.

The sound echoed through the quiet corridor.

Basil froze as Linda crawled across the floor toward the bars, her movements clumsy and desperate. When she reached them, her fingers wrapped around the cold iron so tightly her knuckles turned white.

"I’m sorry, Your Highness. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry."

The words poured out of her endlessly.

She wasn’t even looking at him properly anymore. She was crying too hard, bowing repeatedly as she apologized.

"I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry." Her forehead pressed against the bars with each bow. "I ruined your life. I ruined everything. I was selfish. I was greedy. I don’t know what came over me. I thought I was helping my family. I thought I was helping my grandson. I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Please forgive me, Your Highness."

Basil stared at her in utter disbelief.

The sight of her crumbling before him sent a tremor of cold disgust and deep, unsettling grief through his chest despite everything she had done. He looked down at the woman who had single-handedly orchestrated his entire existence, his posture rigid, though his knuckles whitened where his hands were clenched into tight fists at his sides. He had pictured this moment several times in his head. He had imagined confronting her, demanding answers, demanding some kind of explanation for why she had done what she did, but he had never pictured it being like this.

The desperate cadence of her begging, watching her break apart right in front of him, did nothing to soothe the ache in his throat. If anything, it only made the knot in his chest tighten further. He exhaled a sharp, trembling breath, his voice cutting through her frantic apologies like ice.

"Stop."

Linda shook her head frantically.

"No. No, Your Highness, I have wronged you. I deserve to be punished. I deserve worse. I deserve—"

"Linda."

The woman flinched.

Had she finally lost her mind?

Basil took another slow breath. "I didn’t come here to hear any of that, and would you please stop addressing me like that? How can you still call me that when you know how everything turned out?"

Linda’s lips trembled. Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks as she lowered her head, shame written across every line of her face.

Basil took a slow step closer to the bars, his eyes dark with frustration and exhaustion as he looked down at her.

"I did not come down here to grant you forgiveness or to watch you weep and apologize. None of that will change what has already happened."

Linda’s shoulders shook violently.

Basil looked away briefly.

"The damage is already done," he continued. "No amount of apologies will erase what you did to Their Majesties. It won’t give the prince back the life we stole from him."

Linda broke into fresh sobs.

Basil dragged a hand through his hair in frustration, his fingers catching in the strands as he pushed them back from his face. The gesture did little to ease the tension coiling inside him.

"I know," Linda whispered hoarsely. "I know that. Every day I’ve been here, I’ve thought about it. Every day I’ve wished I could turn back time and undo everything I did."

Her fingers tightened around the bars.

"But I can’t. When my daughter died giving birth, I couldn’t even mourn her properly before I was called back to the palace to attend to Her Majesty. Then the prince was born, and I was overwhelmed with bitterness. I kept asking myself why my daughter had to die in childbirth while others delivered safely, even at home."

Fresh tears streamed down her face.

"Those thoughts kept growing. I started convincing myself that the heavens owed me compensation for taking my daughter away from me. I kept thinking that maybe if my grandson had been born into a powerful family, things would have been different. Maybe he would never have had to struggle. Maybe my daughter wouldn’t have suffered so much."

Her voice trembled violently as she lowered her head. "And then... the thought came to me. At first, it was only a thought. A terrible thought. But the more I looked at the two babies, the more I convinced myself that my grandson had suffered enough before he had even opened his eyes. I told myself he deserved more. He deserved a better life. I owed it to him to give him the future he deserved. I kept finding excuses to justify those thoughts because the truth was too ugly to face."

"ARE YOU MAD?!"

The shout exploded from Basil before he could stop himself. Linda flinched.

His chest heaved as anger surged through him. "Was the Royal Family responsible for your daughter’s death?" he demanded. "Did Their Majesties kill her? Did they force her into that situation?"

Linda opened her mouth, but no words came out.

"And the prince?" Basil continued, his voice rising. "What exactly did a newborn baby do to deserve being torn away from his parents?" His hands clenched into fists. "He hadn’t even lived a single day, Linda. Not one day. What crime had he committed against you?"