The Prince and the Robin

chapter 15 - Dearest Diary

WARNING ⚠️: This chapter mentions sa.

3rd POV

He walked for some time, heading for the castle gardens. The fresh air and open space would do him well. As he walked, his mind played back all that he had heard, all that he had learned. The revelation about his mother, the truth about his life, and the way it had all been kept from him.

He finally reached the gardens and sat down on a bench, trying to calm himself and make sense of it all.

The gardens were peaceful and quiet, a stark contrast to the turmoil within his mind. He sat there for a while, watching the play of sunlight through the leaves and the flutter of birds through the trees.

The tranquility of the gardens provided a small measure of comfort, but it was not enough to shake the sense of betrayal that weighed heavily on his heart.

Despite the beauty of the gardens, Craig's mind was still filled with thoughts of his mother. The realization that she had started the war, that she had caused the death of Molly's mother, was almost too much to bear.

How could his own mother, the woman who had raised him and been there for him his entire life, have done something so horrible? The question nagged at him, refusing to leave his mind.

He sat there for what felt like hours, lost in thought and trying to come to terms with the truth. The sun began to set, painting the sky in vibrant hues of orange and red, but Craig barely noticed. He was too busy wrestling with the implications of his mother's actions.

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Craig entered his room and walked over to the window. He looked out at the familiar sight of the castle grounds and the village beyond. It all looked so ordinary, but now he knew that nothing was as it seemed.

He thought about his childhood, growing up in the castle, surrounded by the privilege and secrecy that came with his lineage. There had to be clues, hints that he had overlooked all these years.

He began to walk around the room, looking at everything with new eyes. He ran his fingers over the furniture, looked at the pictures on the walls, and examined every detail of the room as if it held the answers he sought.

Craig knew that his mother had forbidden him from entering her room, but right now, he didn't care about her rules. He had to know the truth.

He approached the room, his heart racing in his chest. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and stepped inside.

The room was dark, the curtains drawn across the windows, and the air had a strangely still quality. Everything was orderly and in place, as it always was. There was a desk in the corner with a few papers on it and a bed against the far wall. The room smelled faintly of her perfume, a familiar and yet almost eerie scent.

Craig looked around the room, his eyes darting from one object to the next. He could almost feel his mother's presence in the room, like a lingering ghost watching his every move.

He examined the papers on the desk, but they seemed to be business letters and official documents. They provided no answers, no clues to the truth he sought.

Craig glanced at the painting on the wall. It was a simple landscape, a scene of a peaceful meadow with a distant mountain. The colors were soft, and the brushstrokes carefully executed. It was a beautiful painting, but it held no answers.

He was about to turn away when he noticed something peculiar about the painting. There was a section of the canvas that had an odd texture to it, almost as if it was covering something up.

Craig was intrigued. There was definitely something behind the painting. He shifted the painting to the side, revealing a dark room that leads downstairs