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Waking up, I saw three people standing in my room, with Weston in the middle of them. My head throbbed relentlessly as I sat up, and before I could speak, Weston’s calm voice broke the silence. “Go and attend Her Majesty.” A young maid approached, carrying a gold tray with a glass of water and two painkillers. I reached for them, my thoughts swirling. I can’t live like this—like an animal. I’m human. Each doubt felt like a childish whisper in a world that demanded I grow up. As I tried to push through the ache in my head, I noticed movement. Weston had turned to face the wall, his broad shoulders rigid. “I’m sorry if I don’t know the protocols,” I said, my voice strained. “But may I ask why you’re here, Prince Weston? In my bedroom?” He let out a low, gruff sigh, a sound that didn’t c
- Writer
