𝑅𝑂𝑌𝐴𝐿 𝑆𝑇𝐴𝑁𝐷𝐴𝑅𝐷𝑆 ~𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑛

Chapter 20: The Realization

The days stretched on without Max, and each one felt heavier than the last. The palace, usually buzzing with activity, felt like a cage. The walls seemed closer, the ceilings higher, and everything somehow quieter. Charles went through the motions-meetings with advisors, dinners with his father, public appearances-but nothing felt real. Nothing felt grounded.

Max had always been there, somewhere in the background, anchoring him without even trying. And now, in his absence, Charles felt adrift.

It wasn't just the practical things, like the way Max would always show up five minutes early to drag him out of bed or the way he'd silently stand guard in the corner of every room, somehow making Charles feel safe without ever saying a word. It was more than that. It was the conversations they had, late at night, when the palace was quiet and they could just talk. It was Max's dry humor, his sarcastic remarks that cut through the tension, and the way he looked at Charles-not like a prince, but like a person.

Charles had never realized how much that had meant to him. Until now.

He had never felt more like a prince-and more like a prisoner-than in the days since Max had been fired. His father had tightened his control, sending new bodyguards to hover over him, each one colder and more distant than the last. They followed orders without question, never once looking at Charles as anything more than a duty to be carried out. And Charles hated it. He hated that his father had stripped him of the one person who actually understood him.

He hated that he hadn't seen it sooner.

It hit him late one night, after another long day of pretending everything was fine. He was sitting on the floor of his room, leaning back against the bed, staring at the ceiling, letting the silence settle over him. His thoughts drifted, as they often did these days, to Max.

He wondered where Max was now. What he was doing. Whether he was thinking about Charles, too. Or if he had already moved on, found a new job, a new life, far away from the mess of royal politics.

The thought of Max just... disappearing from his life hurt more than Charles expected. It was a sharp, twisting ache in his chest, one he couldn't ignore anymore. And suddenly, it all clicked into place.

Charles sat up, his breath catching in his throat as the realization hit him with the force of a freight train.

He missed Max. Not just because Max had been his bodyguard. Not just because he had been a friend, or even because he had made life in the palace bearable. No, it was more than that.

Charles loved him.

The thought was terrifying, but at the same time, it made so much sense. He had spent weeks in denial, telling himself that his connection to Max was nothing more than gratitude, that their late-night conversations and shared looks were just part of the job. But now, without Max there, the truth was unavoidable.

He loved him. He had fallen for Max without even realizing it. It wasn't just the comfort or the familiarity-it was Max himself. His quiet strength, his steady presence, the way he could read Charles so easily without needing words. Max had seen him, really seen him, in a way that no one else ever had.

And Charles had let him go. Or worse, he had stood by while his father pushed Max out of his life.

His chest tightened, and for a moment, Charles struggled to breathe. How had he not seen it sooner? How had he been so blind?

He pushed himself off the floor, pacing the room, running a hand through his hair as he tried to wrap his head around this sudden clarity. His mind raced, heart pounding as he thought about Max-about what he could do to fix this. He had to fix it. He couldn't just let Max disappear from his life, not now that he finally understood what he meant to him.

Charles stopped in front of the mirror, staring at his reflection. He looked the same, but everything felt different now. The weight of his realization was almost overwhelming, but it was also freeing, in a way. For the first time in weeks, he felt like he had direction, like he knew what he needed to do.

But how? How could he possibly make this right?

His father had made it clear that Max was gone for good, that he had been dismissed for "getting too close." The very thing Charles now realized he wanted, needed, was the thing his father had been so determined to prevent.

But Charles didn't care. Not anymore.

He couldn't live like this, pretending that he was okay with losing Max. He couldn't keep hiding behind the walls his father had built around him, pretending that being the perfect prince was enough. Max had shown him what it felt like to be seen as a person, not a title, and now that he had tasted that, he couldn't go back to the way things were.

Charles sat down at his desk, pulling out his phone again. His hands trembled as he scrolled through his contacts, hesitating for just a moment before he found Max's name. The same empty message screen stared back at him, but this time, Charles didn't hesitate.

He typed out a message, his fingers flying across the screen.

Max, I don't know where you are right now, or if you'll even see this, but I need you to know something. I messed up. I let my father get between us, and I shouldn't have. I should have fought harder for you. For us.

Charles paused, his heart racing as he re-read the words. It felt like too much, too raw, but at the same time, it wasn't enough. He needed Max to understand, to know what was really going on in his heart.

I miss you. More than that... I think I love you. No, I'm sure I do. I've never been good at saying these things, but I needed to tell you. I'm sorry for everything. I hope you're okay, wherever you are. Please, if you get this, just... let me know you're alright.

He hit send before he could second-guess himself, then stared at the phone, waiting, as if Max might reply instantly. Of course, nothing happened. The screen stayed stubbornly blank.

Charles let out a shaky breath, leaning back in his chair, his heart still pounding. It was out there now, the truth he had been avoiding for so long. Maybe it wouldn't change anything. Maybe Max was already gone for good. But at least he had said it. At least he had told Max how he felt, even if it was too late.

He sat there in the silence, the weight of the palace pressing in on him again. But this time, it didn't feel quite so suffocating. There was hope now, however faint. And that was enough to keep him going, for now.

Charles knew one thing for certain: he wasn't going to let Max go without a fight.