The World Cannot Know

Chapter 66

Prince Sebastian

The fire crackled softly in the hearth as we entered the smaller solar. I'd asked for privacy. No guards, no advisors. Just us.

Katharina was already seated in the corner chair, Louie bundled quietly in her arms. She was composed, distant, barely acknowledging me when I entered with Matthew at my side.

Lord and Lady Canterbury stood near the center of the room, hands clasped tightly in front of them, their posture tense. The last time they'd seen their son, he was being dragged through the castle halls in chains—because of me.

Matthew paused at the threshold. I felt him tense beside me, but when I gently touched his back, he stepped forward.

His mother gasped as her eyes met his.

"Oh gods," she breathed, voice trembling. "Matthew?"

His name fell from her lips like a prayer. She rushed forward without hesitation and threw her arms around him. He stiffened at first—just a second—but then melted into her embrace. Her hands trembled as she held his face. "You're alive. You're really alive."

Lord Canterbury was slower to approach, his steps tentative, as though unsure if he had the right to come closer. His expression was one of quiet awe, humbled by the sight of his son standing before him—alive.

"We thought you were gone," he said softly, his voice cracking under the weight of those years lost.

"I almost was," Matthew replied, his tone calm, but edged with something deeper—wounds not quite healed. "Sebastian and Marcus got me out just in time."

Lady Canterbury turned to me then, her eyes meeting mine with a glimmer of gratitude that caught me off guard. A silent nod passed between us—acknowledgment, and something gentler than forgiveness.

I shifted slightly, folding my hands behind my back. "The plan had always been to get Matthew out of the castle and escort him to Wallucia," I said. "It was supposed to be temporary—just until I could speak to the king and clear his name. But something went wrong that night. The guard lines shifted, and... we lost track of him."

Matthew let out a quiet breath, shaking his head faintly. "I ran for days. Barely slept. I was hunted—like an animal. There were so many close calls, I stopped counting. I thought I was going to die." He paused, glancing at his parents. "But I didn't."

His voice softened. "I was found—by Arney. A stubborn, loud-mouthed blacksmith's son with too much heart and no sense of self-preservation. He dragged me back to his home. His mother took one look at me, half-dead, and swore I wasn't leaving until I was whole again."

Matthew's voice faltered with quiet reverence. "They hid me. Fed me. Protected me when soldiers came looking. And they didn't ask questions they knew I couldn't answer. They just... gave me a place to exist."

"They became your family," Lady Canterbury whispered.

Matthew nodded. "They are my family. I owe them everything."

A silence stretched between us, not uncomfortable, but weighty—full of things none of us could say easily. Things like regret. Like what-ifs. Like how a single moment of cruelty had cost them five years of their son's life.

Katharina sat back in the chair, Louie still resting against her shoulder. She didn't speak—just watched, unreadable as always.

I glanced at Matthew, then said, "If not for them... we wouldn't be standing here right now."

Lord Canterbury bowed his head. "Then we owe them a debt we can never repay."

Matthew gave a faint, bittersweet smile. "They didn't ask for anything. They just gave me a home when mine turned me away."