What the Crown Knows
788 Words
Alex noticed it by the second hour.
Alice was following him.
Not subtly.
Not discreetly.
Not with any attempt at dignity.
He stopped in the corridor outside the council wing. She stopped too—one step behind him, arms folded, gaze fixed on the side of his face.
“…Are you going to say something,” Alex asked calmly, “or is this the part where you haunt me?”
She smiled sweetly. Dangerously. “You’re walking too fast.”
“I always walk this fast.”
“No, you’re avoiding.”
He resumed walking.
She resumed following.
By the third turn down the hallway, Alex sighed. “Alice.”
“Yes?”
“You’ve been staring at the back of my head for twenty minutes.”
“I’m making sure it doesn’t lie to me,” she replied.
He rubbed his temple. “This again.”
She quickened her pace, stepping in front of him. “Kael said the pact can be transferred.”
Alex stopped.
The air between them tightened.
“That is not a topic for corridors,” he said evenly.
“Good,” Alice replied. “We’re moving to a different one.”
She followed him all the way to the eastern study.
He closed the door.
She leaned against it.
“Tell me,” she said.
He crossed the room, busying himself with papers he had already read. “Kael enjoys speculation.”
“Alex.”
“He enjoys destabilizing trust.”
“Alex.”
He exhaled slowly. “Alice—”
“Can the pact be transferred?” she asked flatly.
Silence.
Just long enough to matter.
Her eyes sharpened. “You hesitated.”
“I didn’t answer,” he corrected.
“That *is* an answer.”
He turned away.
She followed.
He went to the balcony.
She followed.
He turned toward the inner hall.
She followed.
Finally, Alex stopped short.
“I need to use the toilet,” he said tightly.
Alice blinked. “What?”
“I need a moment. Alone.”
She crossed her arms. “You’ve had weeks.”
“ALICE,” he snapped, then immediately softened. “I mean—Alice. Please. Give me one moment for once.”
She stared at him, torn between frustration and fear.
“…Fine,” she said. “One.”
He disappeared into the adjoining room and closed the door behind him.
Alice leaned her forehead against the wall.
“Unbelievable,” she muttered. “Married a king. Still can’t get a straight answer.”
Inside the bathroom, Alex braced his hands against the sink, breathing slowly.
Because the truth was this:
Yes.
The pact could be transferred.
And the crown of Valenreach had known it for generations.
The pact bound itself not to power—but to proximity. To the life most closely tethered to the heir’s existence.
A spouse.
A partner.
A choice.
Alex had learned the truth on the day he became king.
He had never intended for Alice to know.
Because he had already decided.
*I will carry it alone.*
The door opened.
Alice stepped in anyway.
Alex turned sharply. “I asked for—”
“You asked for a moment,” she said. “You got one.”
She walked closer, eyes shining with something fierce and scared and unmistakably determined.
“Kael said it could be moved,” she said again, softer now. “Is he lying?”
Alex closed his eyes.
“No,” he admitted.
Her breath hitched. “Then why won’t you talk to me?”
Because if I do, he thought, you’ll offer yourself.
Because if I do, you’ll think love means sacrifice.
Because if I do, I lose the right to protect you.
“Because,” he said aloud, voice steady despite the storm in his chest, “some truths are not meant to be acted on.”
Alice laughed—a short, broken sound. “You don’t get to decide that alone.”
“I do,” he replied quietly. “I’m the one bound.”
Her voice trembled. “And I’m the one who loves you.”
That stopped him.
He opened his eyes.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Alex stepped forward and took her hands, pressing them gently against his chest.
“I chose you so you wouldn’t have to carry this,” he said. “Not so I could hand it to you later.”
Tears slid down Alice’s cheeks. “And I didn’t choose you so I could watch you disappear.”
Silence fell—heavy, unresolved.
Somewhere beyond the palace walls, the world held its breath.
Because the crown knew the truth.
And soon—
So would the world.
- Writer
