**"The Royal Masquerade"**

Part 12

Max stood in the dimly lit basement, his heart still pounding from the bizarre encounter. The kidnappers had left him alone after discovering he wasn't the princess they had expected, but he knew it wouldn't be long before they decided what to do next. He had to act fast.

His wrists were still sore from the ropes, but he managed to wriggle out of them after a few minutes of determined effort. The moment his hands were free, Max rubbed his wrists and glanced around the room. The basement was cluttered with old boxes, dusty shelves, and a few scattered tools. He quickly searched for something useful, something that might help him escape.

Finding a small window at the far end of the room, Max crouched down and inspected it. The window was small, barely big enough for him to squeeze through, but it was his only chance. He climbed up onto a stack of boxes and, with some effort, pushed the window open. Cool air rushed in, and for the first time since regaining consciousness, he felt a glimmer of hope.

Max crawled through the window, his body protesting as he forced himself through the narrow opening. He landed on the other side in a patch of overgrown weeds, dirt clinging to his skin and the bikini still partially on him. It was dark outside, the night offering him some cover as he hurriedly brushed off the debris and began to run.

He didn't know where he was or how far he was from safety, but he couldn't stop. The memory of his parents' deaths haunted him, and the thought of being recaptured filled him with dread. As he ran through the fields, he thought about the royal family. They would likely send help once they discovered he was missing, but for now, he was on his own.

After what felt like hours of running, Max stumbled onto a small road. His legs were shaking, and his breathing was ragged, but he couldn't afford to rest. He needed to find help. As he scanned the road, he saw headlights in the distance—a car approaching.

Desperate, Max stepped onto the road and waved his arms. The car slowed, its headlights illuminating his disheveled appearance. The driver, a middle-aged man with a concerned expression, rolled down his window.

"You okay, kid?" the man asked, eyeing Max's odd attire with confusion.

"I... I need help," Max said breathlessly, trying to keep himself together. "Please, I was kidnapped. I need to get to the authorities."

The man's eyes widened in alarm, and without hesitation, he unlocked the door. "Get in. I'll take you to the nearest police station."

Max climbed into the car, his mind still racing from the ordeal. As they drove off, the weight of everything that had happened began to sink in. His parents were gone. The life he had known had been shattered in an instant. He was no longer just Max; he was a key figure in a larger scheme, caught between the royal family and the enemies who had mistaken him for a princess.

The car ride was silent for the most part, the driver occasionally glancing at Max with concern. After what felt like an eternity, they arrived at a small police station. Max was exhausted, but he forced himself to focus as the officers took his statement. They were shocked by his story, especially when he revealed the mix-up that had led to the attack.

"They thought I was the princess," Max explained, his voice shaking. "I was dressed like her. They didn't realize I wasn't... until later."

The police assured him they would launch an investigation and contact the royal family. In the meantime, they provided him with a change of clothes and a place to rest.

As Max sat in the quiet room of the station, the reality of everything crashed down on him. His parents were gone, and he had narrowly escaped with his life. But even now, he wasn't sure what would happen next. Would the royal family protect him? Or would the kidnappers come after him again?

One thing was certain—his life would never be the same again.