Chapter 55: One Month Later

"Your Majesty, I say we arrest Prince Basil."

Lord Thompson declared, slamming his palm against the council table, the sharp crack echoing around the chamber. His face was red with outrage as he rose from his seat, his eyes sweeping across the other council members before settling on the King at the head of the circular table.

"Prince Darius has been lying in a hospital bed in a coma for the past month, Your Majesty, an entire month. And all of this happened because of Prince Basil’s recklessness. If he had simply taken the royal bodyguards with them, or if he had not abandoned Prince Darius at that boutique, this tragedy would never have occurred."

He drew a harsh breath, his fingers curling against the edge of the table as his anger continued to build. "And I have reason to believe that this was not merely an unfortunate accident. I believe Prince Basil may have engineered the entire accident himself. We have an eyewitness who saw the two princes at the boutique that day. According to the witness, Prince Basil left the boutique without Prince Darius and was preparing to drive away before His Highness could reach the vehicle. Not only did he fail to ensure that Prince Darius had a security detail with him, but he also planned to leave the premises without him."

Lord Thompson’s voice grew harder. "This bears all the hallmarks of an orchestrated attempt on Prince Darius’s life! How else could the driver have fled the scene if this was nothing more than an accident? And somehow, the security footage from the boutique has also been wiped. How convenient is that? Prince Basil takes Prince Darius to a boutique, intends to leave him behind, and almost immediately afterward, Prince Darius is hit by a vehicle whose driver disappears without a trace. We are expected to believe that all of this is simply a coincidence?"

He shook his head slowly, his expression darkening. "No, Your Majesty. I do not believe in coincidences of this magnitude. I believe someone planned this. I believe someone wanted Prince Darius out of the way, and everything that happened that day was arranged to make it look like an accident. Prince Basil had the opportunity. He was the last person seen with Prince Darius before the accident. He knew where they were going. He knew when they would be leaving. He knew Prince Darius would be vulnerable once he was separated from his security detail. Everything points back to him."

A murmur passed through the council chamber, but Lord Thompson continued before anyone could interrupt him. "And we cannot ignore what happened before this. Prince Basil is not the true heir to this throne. That truth was discovered before the accident, and yet he continues to occupy the position of Crown Prince as though nothing has changed. Your Majesty, what happens when a man who has spent his entire life believing he is the heir suddenly discovers that the throne was never truly his? What happens when the real Crown Prince returns and everyone begins looking toward him instead?"

His palm struck the table again. "I believe Prince Basil knew exactly what was at stake. I believe he feared losing everything. His title, his position, his place within the royal family. Prince Darius was the rightful Crown Prince, and now Prince Basil is standing in his way. I am not saying this lightly, Your Majesty. I am saying that we must consider the possibility that Prince Basil intended to kill Prince Darius so he would never have to surrender the throne. He must be held accountable. He should be stripped of his title and locked up!"

"Lord Thompson, mind your tongue."

The interruption came from Lord Marcus Hale, who had remained silent until then. He leaned back slightly in his chair, his expression calm despite the heated atmosphere. "You are speaking as though you have already passed judgment. How certain are you?"

Lord Thompson turned toward him.

"How certain am I?" he repeated sharply. "Certain enough to demand that we take this seriously."

"I agree that it should be taken seriously," Lord Hale replied evenly. "But taking an accusation seriously is not the same thing as declaring someone guilty. Everyone in this room knows Prince Basil can be headstrong and impetuous, traits often mistaken for malice or arrogance. Perhaps he does behave arrogantly at times, but that does not automatically make him capable of orchestrating the murder of his own brother."

He glanced around the table. "I find it difficult to believe that Prince Basil could carefully construct a plan involving a hit-and-run driver, the timing of the accident, and the disappearance of evidence without leaving a single piece of concrete evidence behind. We should investigate further before we condemn him. We need to find out who actually did this."

"Lord Hale is right. We need to investigate further," another council member said.

"Investigate what, precisely?" Lord Adrian Mercer, who had been reviewing a folder in front of him, cut in. "My men reviewed the security footage from Maison Estellio and the surrounding street. The CCTV files for that entire hour were completely wiped clean. That alone proves this was a calculated operation, not a simple accident."

A tense murmur spread around the table.

"Which proves my point," Lord Thompson snapped. "This was a setup."

"It proves someone tampered with the evidence," Lord Hale corrected. "It does not prove Prince Basil was responsible."

"Then explain this to me," Lord Thompson shot back. "How did Prince Darius end up at that boutique in the first place? Why was Prince Basil the one taking him there? Why did Prince Basil want to leave him behind? The same day Prince Basil took him to that boutique is the same day Prince Darius was nearly killed. How many coincidences do you need before you begin asking the right questions?"

At the head of the circular table, King William remained silent, looking drained.

He sat with one hand resting against his chin, his shoulders slightly hunched beneath the weight of exhaustion that had accumulated over the past month. He barely heard the voices around him anymore. For four weeks, the same accusations had been repeated in this room. Meeting after meeting, argument after argument, the council returned to the same conclusion, demanding Basil’s punishment while Darius remained unconscious in a hospital bed.

It had been one entire month since William had last heard his son’s voice. One month since the accident had ripped through their family and left Darius fighting for his life. Every morning, William woke with the same unbearable thought that his son might never open his eyes again.

Every evening, he returned to the palace knowing that Darius was still lying beneath hospital lights, surrounded by machines that were keeping him alive. And now these men were sitting around his table, arguing over which member of his family should be blamed.

William closed his eyes briefly. He was tired.

Not simply tired from sleepless nights or endless hours spent at the hospital. He was tired of being King. Tired of making decisions while his heart was breaking. Tired of listening to the same accusations against Basil while knowing that Basil had been barely holding himself together since the accident.

And, more than anything, he was tired of wondering what Darius would have done if he were sitting here. William could almost see him barging through those doors, completely disregarding protocol because he had something to say. He remembered the way his son had stood there just a day before the accident without the slightest fear of the council, openly challenging them for accusing Basil wrongly.

He desperately wished Darius could do it again.