𝑅𝑂𝑌𝐴𝐿 𝑆𝑇𝐴𝑁𝐷𝐴𝑅𝐷𝑆 ~𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑛

Chapter 22: The Message

Charles had barely slept. Every time he closed his eyes, his father’s words echoed in his head. You will fail. The cold finality of it was worse than anything else. He hadn’t said a word to anyone about the argument, not even to Pierre, who had been tiptoeing around him ever since the tension in the palace had thickened like a fog.

It was late afternoon when Charles finally dragged himself out of bed. He felt disconnected, like he was floating through his own life, going through the motions. His phone was in his hand again, as it had been all morning, the empty screen burning a hole in his heart. Still no message from Max.

He had sent that text days ago. It felt like an eternity. And every minute that passed without a reply made the knot in Charles’ chest tighten a little more.

He wandered through the palace aimlessly, barely acknowledging the staff as he passed by. They were used to his quiet moods by now, but even they seemed to sense that something was different. Charles made his way to the gardens, where he could at least escape the stifling walls of the palace and try to breathe.

He sat down on one of the stone benches under the shade of a large tree, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the lawn. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and his heart leapt. He pulled it out quickly, but it was just a notification about a palace event next week.

Charles sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. He had tried to distract himself, tried to focus on his duties, but it all felt pointless. Nothing felt right without Max.

He was about to put his phone away when it buzzed again. He glanced down half-heartedly—then froze.

It was Max.

For a moment, Charles couldn’t move. He just stared at the screen, the small preview of the message taunting him. His heart raced, his hands suddenly shaking as he opened it.

Max: Charles, I’m sorry it took me so long to respond. I needed time to think. About everything.

Charles’ heart hammered in his chest. He sat up straight, eyes glued to the words as he quickly scrolled down to see the rest of the message.

Max: I didn’t expect to hear from you after everything that happened. I thought it’d be better if I stayed away. I thought it’d make things easier—for both of us.

Max: But then you sent that message. And now… I don’t know. Maybe I’m the one who was wrong.

Charles swallowed hard, his hands trembling as he read on.

Max: I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. About us. And it’s hard because I don’t know where I fit into your life anymore. Maybe I never did.

Charles felt a lump form in his throat. His eyes blurred slightly, but he blinked quickly, trying to focus on the words.

Max: I wasn’t just your bodyguard, Charles. And you weren’t just a job to me. I didn’t want to admit it at first, but I think I’ve known for a while now.

Max: I care about you. More than I’m supposed to.

Charles’ breath caught in his throat. He could barely believe what he was reading. He re-read the last line several times, just to make sure he wasn’t imagining it.

Max cared about him. Not just in the way a bodyguard cares for a charge, but something deeper. Something Charles had been desperate to believe but too scared to hope for.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure of what to say, how to respond. His mind was racing, his emotions swirling together into a confusing mess. He had spent so long wondering if he’d ever hear from Max again, and now that he had… it was almost overwhelming.

Before he could type anything, another message came through.

Max: I don’t know what happens next. I don’t know if this is even possible, with your father and everything that comes with being who you are. But I had to tell you. I couldn’t just let you think I didn’t feel the same way.

Max: So yeah… I miss you too.

That was it. The last line stayed there on the screen, staring back at Charles like it held the weight of the world.

I miss you too.

Charles felt a rush of warmth spread through his chest. He bit his lip, trying to suppress the smile that was slowly creeping across his face. For the first time in days—weeks, even—he felt a flicker of hope.

Max felt the same way. He missed him. He cared about him. It wasn’t just one-sided. Charles wasn’t alone in this.

He quickly typed a reply, his fingers moving faster than his thoughts.

Charles: Max, I don’t care about what my father thinks. I don’t care about any of it. I just… I want you back.

He hit send, and then immediately felt the need to clarify, his fingers flying across the screen.

Charles: Not just as my bodyguard. I mean… I want you back in my life. As more. I don’t know how we make it work, but I’ll fight for it. For us.

He stared at the screen, waiting, his heart pounding so hard it was almost painful. The few minutes that passed felt like an eternity.

Then, finally, Max replied.

Max: Charles… you don’t know what you’re signing up for.

Charles: Yes, I do. And I’m ready for it. For you.

Charles could practically feel the weight of Max’s hesitation through the phone. He knew Max wasn’t someone who gave his trust easily. He had spent so much of his life keeping people at a distance, guarding himself as fiercely as he guarded Charles.

But this time, Charles wasn’t going to let him slip away.

Max: I don’t know if your father will ever accept this. But if you’re really sure… then I’ll come back.

Charles felt a surge of emotion—relief, joy, fear—all hitting him at once. He didn’t care about the risks, about what his father might think or say. For the first time in his life, he was ready to fight for what he wanted.

Charles: I’m sure. I’ll handle my father. Just… come back.

There was a pause, and then one last message.

Max: I’ll be there tomorrow.

Charles stared at the screen, his heart racing, his chest tight with anticipation. Tomorrow. Max would be back tomorrow.

He sat there in the quiet of the garden, the late afternoon sun casting a golden glow over everything. For the first time in weeks, he felt like he could breathe again.

Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.