Execution [Book 2 of The English Lion]

XXVI

The news of the Prince of Wales's death has spread. It stunned the world at least twice over. Except for Mussolini, Stalin, Hirohito and Hitler. They rejoiced in secret, but it is not as secret as they think it is because the whole world knows that they're rejoicing. The General-Director of the once-great Regillus Eques had died. Unexpectedly but convenient. It was only a month into the war. No one expects it to be so soon. Winston, Antoine, Douglas, and Emily didn't think he would carry it out. Meanwhile, Hugo was... reported a prisoner of war. The first Anglo-French member of the British RAF to become a German prisoner of war. Even more horror for Britain and France. More rejoice for Nazi Germany. The Deputy Director-General is in their grasp, so it would seem. The Director-General is dead. What more can Hitler wish for? It seems like Lady Luck seems to be on his side in the early stages of this war.

Isabelle locked herself in Alexander's room, not allowing anyone to come in after the news. After the incident yesterday, she felt so guilty. She should have realised the pressure Alexander was under, not just for his own people, but for France and Denmark as well. She should have seen that. She should have understood the duties that the Royal Families upheld. It was her fault, taking it out on Alexander for not communicating with her. She was selfish. She has never described herself that way. It was only when he's gone, that she described herself that way. Selfish. Not selfless. Like him.

Alexander looked up to the sky, prayed for forgiveness as he fell from the plane. Especially her forgiveness. Guilt washed over him. Bravery. Honour. Valour. Duty. These words flash across his mind multiple times. It is just a part of the chaos that ravages his mind, giving him a violent headache. A small voice contradicts his beliefs. The beliefs that define him. You are a coward. Truth be told, this is a new low for you. You have never sunk this low before. It might even rival your Uncle. Alexander let tears blur his vision as he fell. Until a thought came through his mind that brought him the courage that he needs: Imagine Hitler invading Britain and it is a successful operation. What will you do when the Nazi flag flies over London? What will you do when you see Hitler execute your family? Her?! What will you do when Hitler forces you to swear loyalty to him, sitting on the throne of your ancestors in Westminster Abbey?! What. Will. You. Do.

Hugo's story of being a prisoner of war was the story of a cover-up. An extremely good cover-up. He's in Berlin. Considering he had flown from London to Berlin, he had mentally prepared for the task ahead. Like Alexander, by doing this, it isn't just for him, but for France, Britain and Denmark. It was his duty to do so. It is one of the many things that Alexander had taught him. If he hadn't been friends with Alexander, he would have been cowardly against the might of valour and honour that the duty of protecting France, Britain and Denmark alongside their peoples have brought. It is more than an honour. It is more than valour. It wasn't a mere duty that one can just carry out without the need and call for second thoughts, malicious planning, doubt and regret.

It was something that he would do without the expense of his countries to ask him. He voluntarily answered the horn of war that had been recurringly sounded since Hitler became Chancellor six years ago.