Chapter 4: Three Weeks Later

"Pali-pali! Pali-pali!"

​Darius clapped his hands together repeatedly, waving both arms at the cluster of maids bustling around his hospital room.

​"Hurry up already!"

​The two maids folding clothes nearly jumped.

​Three weeks.

Three entire weeks of being forced to lie in bed in the name of healing. King William and Queen Jane would barely let him walk to the bathroom without someone hovering nearby like he was made of glass.

If only they knew.

​He had suffered worse injuries before and never spent a single day rotting in a hospital bed. "I swear, if you people move any slower, I’ll die of old age before we leave this place."

​One of the maids snorted before quickly hiding it behind a cough.

​Darius glared dramatically at the growing pile of luggage.

"Chop! Chop! Move it ladies! I can’t wait to get home already."

The maids exchanged amused glances as they hurried to pick up the pace.

​Across the room, Queen Jane smiled despite herself as she arranged some toiletries on the side table. She couldn’t help but smile at her son’s sheer excitement to finally leave.

The sight still felt surreal.

​Three weeks ago, when Darius had learned the truth, she and William had been bracing themselves for the worst.

​Anger. Bitterness. Resentment.

​Perhaps even hatred.

​After all, another boy had unknowingly lived the life that should have been his for twenty-one years.

Instead, the very first thing he had asked after hearing the entire story was, "You mean I’m going to live together in the palace with Prince Basil?"

​Jane and William had been completely blindsided. Not once had he expressed outrage. Not once had he complained.

​He had simply looked excited.

​Far too excited, in fact.

​As though gaining a brother was somehow more important than discovering an entire kingdom had almost been stolen from him.

Since then, he had asked about Basil constantly. Every day.

​Sometimes several times a day.

​"What was Basil like?"

​"Did he enjoy sports?"

"Is he dating anyone?"

​"What did he find funny?"

​"What kind of food did he like?"

​"Why hadn’t he come to visit?"

​That last question always hurt.

Jane had tried. God knew she had tried to make Basil visit, but the boy refused to budge.

​

He had been locking himself in his room since the day he learned the truth and they barely caught glimpses of him.

​Meals were left outside his door.

​She tried many things to coax him out, but all to no avail. The servants reported hearing him occasionally moving around inside, but that was all.

They had tried pleading.

​Reasoning. Comforting.

​Even William had attempted several times to speak with him. Nothing worked.

Eventually they had been forced to step back and give him time to process everything.

​But every time Darius asked why Basil had not visited, Jane felt a sharp pang of guilt settle heavily in her chest, and could never bring herself to tell him the truth.

How could she tell him that the brother he was so excited to meet wanted nothing to do with any of this?

So instead, she always smiled and said the same thing. ​"Basil is very busy right now. You’ll see him once you get discharged."

​And every single time, Darius’s face lit up.

The promise only made him more impatient to leave. The doctor had recommended another week of recovery, but Darius insisted he was perfectly fine and couldn’t stand another twenty-four hours in the ward. Earlier that morning, he had threatened to jump out of the window if they refused to discharge him.

The doctor had nearly fainted. Darius, unfortunately, had been completely serious.

​"Hurry up, you lazy turtles!"

His voice rang through the room again.

Darius stood near the door, impatiently tapping one foot.

Seriously. How did he even have this much stuff?

He had arrived three weeks ago wearing nothing except torn, bloody clothes.

​Now he was leaving with nearly three suitcases. Three. In three weeks.

​Darius stared at them. Rich people really had a talent for wasting money. He sighed.

​At least none of that mattered right now.

​He was finally going home and more importantly... He was finally going to meet Basil. A grin spread across his face.

Will he still remember me?

The thought slipped into his mind unexpectedly. He might not.

​A lot had changed. Darius had grown taller. Put on muscle. Lost some of the scrawny frame he’d carried around the orphanage.

Still...

​Part of him hoped Basil had never forgotten him. "Your Highness," one of the maids announced. "We’re done."

Darius threw both hands into the air. "Finally!"

​

He looked from the suitcases to the maids, then at the door. ​"I was beginning to think I’d be leaving without you people."

​He grabbed the door handle and pulled it open. "Let’s go already."

Then he glanced back, only to find Queen Jane still seated where he had left her, watching him.

Her eyes carried that familiar expression again. That soft, almost fragile look that made him feel like she was trying to memorize every movement he made.

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Not again.

Darius frowned. "Mother, the Queen." Jane blinked. "Why are you still sitting there? The palace waits for nobody."

A few of the maids immediately burst into muffled giggles. Even after three weeks, they still hadn’t gotten used to their new prince.

​Queen Jane laughed softly and shook her head before standing. "There he goes again."

​Without waiting for anyone else, Darius stepped into the hallway.

The maids hurried after him with the luggage while Queen Jane followed behind, smiling despite the dread pooling in her stomach.

​She really wished Basil would welcome him, rather than treat his arrival like the end of the world.

xxx

The massive palace gates rolled apart with mechanical precision as Basil guided his car through the opening. Gravel crunched beneath the tires while the familiar grounds stretched out before him, manicured gardens glowing gold beneath the late afternoon sun. Normally, the sight soothed him, even though he knew he no longer belonged here.

Today it did nothing.

His eyes immediately landed on a black luxury sedan parked near the main entrance.

The Queen’s car.

Basil’s grip tightened around the steering wheel. She wasn’t at the hospital today?

For the past three weeks, she had practically been living there. Every conversation among the palace staff revolved around this Darius guy’s recovery. Every update was about how well he was healing, what he had eaten, or what ridiculous thing he had said to a doctor.

The queen and king had both tried several times to convince Basil to visit.

The thought alone made his stomach twist.

What exactly did they expect him to say when he met the guy?

Hi, I’m Basil. The man who accidentally stole your life for twenty-one years. Nice to finally meet you.

The bitterness drew a humorless laugh from him.

No fucking way.

He really didn’t want to see any of them right now, especially not after today.

Basil pulled into his usual parking spot and switched off the engine. Silence immediately filled the vehicle. For a long moment, he didn’t move. He simply sat there staring through the windshield before letting his head fall back against the seat.

A shaky breath escaped him.

​If he had known things would go this badly, he never would have gone to school this morning. Then again, what was the alternative? Hide in his room forever?

​Lock the door and never come out? The thought sounded pathetic, yet not nearly as pathetic as what had actually happened.

​His eyes burned. Before he could stop them, tears slipped down his cheeks. Who would have thought things would spiral this quickly?

​Who would have thought the same people who had spent years eating lunch with him, partying with him, texting him at all hours of the night, and calling themselves his closest friends would switch sides almost immediately?

The realization hurt far more than he wanted to admit. Another tear rolled down his face as the memory of what happened at the college clawed its way back into his mind.

​Sonia’s public humiliation. The laughter, the mockery. The way people looked at him now.

Basil swallowed hard and wiped furiously at his eyes. God, he didn’t wish to remember, but his mind had a mind of its own.