Unchosen Crown

DOES THIS MEAN IT ALL GOES DOWNHILL FROM HERE?

Oliver left the meeting room with firm steps, but the halls of Windsor Castle felt distorted, as if he were navigating foreign terrain. He knew these stones as well as the back of his hand, but something had shifted — perhaps it was him.

The echo of his footsteps sounded lonely, reverberating through the walls that once embraced him. Now, the space that should have been his refuge had transformed into a cruel caricature of his uncertainties, mocking the disconnect he felt. He had always been the reluctant heir, a prince by obligation, not by choice. And the deeper he sank into the role assigned to him, the more he felt like a stranger in his own story.

He quickened his pace, almost as if fleeing from a place he had never truly called home. His destination was his old bedroom, the only space where, in those moments of solitude, he could at least pretend to have some control. Crossing the threshold, time seemed to stand still. Nothing had changed: the bed canopy remained untouched, the pristine sheets still carried the scent of old wood and spices, and his books lined the shelves like silent witnesses to a dormant past. He sank into the bed, hoping the exhaustion would numb him completely.

But his rest was abruptly interrupted by firm knocks echoing against the noble wood of the door. Ian Harrison-Jones, ever punctual and rigid, barely masked his impatience.

"Prince Oliver, such tardiness is unacceptable!" His deep voice cut through the silence with an urgency that, to Oliver, felt unnecessary. He groaned, reluctant to abandon the comfort of the sheets.

Ian, of course, was not one to be easily deterred. With a dry yank, Oliver opened the door, facing Ian's impassive stare. His hair disheveled, his chest barely covered by a loosely tied robe, Oliver regarded him with what could only be described as controlled disdain.

"What the hell do you want?" Oliver asked, each word dripping with exhaustion.

He was still groggy when he noticed Ian's eyes briefly linger on his half-naked body, quickly averting with a look of embarrassment. A faint blush colored Ian's cheeks before he summoned the courage to meet Oliver's gaze again. It was then that the prince realized he hadn't even bothered to dress properly after his bath the night before.

A crooked smile crept onto Oliver's lips, as if he'd just told himself a subtle joke.

"It seems, Your Royal Highness has forgotten today's council meeting," Ian said, with a calm that only thinly veiled his irritation. "I've come to escort you."

Oliver raised an eyebrow, clearly unhurried. He glanced at his exposed body and deliberately turned his back to walk back into the room, leaving the door wide open.

"A meeting? And what exactly is there for me to discuss with the Council?"

Ian hesitated at the doorway, frozen. Oliver, noticing his inaction, turned just enough to face him. "Is something wrong, Mr. Harrison-Jones?"

Ian cleared his throat, once again averting his gaze to avoid the sight of the prince's half-naked form. "You should be... properly dressed for the meeting."

"Oh, bad luck, catching me so unprepared," Oliver said with a sarcasm that came naturally. He approached the mirror, attempting, unsuccessfully, to tame his unruly hair. "I usually take a few dates to reach this level of intimacy. But since we're here... isn't there a rule that says if you've seen mine, I have the right to see yours?"

Ian stiffened, eyes widening in disbelief. Oliver, seemingly unaware of the impact of his joke, continued fussing with his hair in the mirror.

"No? Only I thought of that?"

"This is completely inappropriate," Ian responded, his tone firm, though clearly flustered.

Oliver laughed, walking to the wardrobe, distracted by the choice of a suit. "Relax, Harrison-Jones. It's just a robe. You won't faint from seeing so little, will you?" He pulled a navy-blue suit off the hanger, turning to face Ian with a mocking smile, gesturing vaguely to his exposed legs. "Unless you're impressed. In which case, I must say, I've seen it all. Nothing new under the robe, you know?"