The Royal in Room 3 (Halo House #1)

Prologue

SOREN

They didn’t call it a deposition. They called it a session, and that was the first lie, although I didn’t know it at the time.

I stood alone at the center of the council chamber, which hadn’t changed since I was a boy.

Same pale stone walls, same long table polished to a shine, same flags standing at attention behind the dais.

The kingdom of Belvaria had always loved continuity.

It honored tradition and pretended that the old ways were noble, rather than simply old.

When my valet had laid out the court uniform for me this morning, I’d balked at wearing the uncomfortable clothes.

But Alan had politely reminded me that today wasn’t the day to test the court’s already thin patience with me as crown prince.

I was never meant for this position in the first place, being neither the heir nor the spare.

So I’d stood there while he dressed me like the heir impostor that I was, fastening me into a midnight-blue jacket, stiff with silver embroidery at the cuffs and collar, polished buttons stamped with the Belvarian crown, and epaulets that sat too heavily on my shoulders—not so much the actual weight of them as the responsibility they represented.

The sash of the royal house cut across my chest in blue and silver, my medals, which were lacking when compared to the former crown prince’s, pinned over my heart.

By the time he was done, I looked exactly as they all wanted me to look: flawless and obedient.

All I felt was trapped.

And yet, as the oppressive silence fell in the council chamber, eyes stared directly at me, assessing and finding me wanting.

My throat was thick with the possibility that I might actually lose it all.

I never wanted to be the crown prince, but I didn’t want to leave this way either, with my dignity in tatters and branded a traitor.

I kept my hands folded behind my back because they felt too heavy at my sides, like they were pulling me down to the floor, to my knees to beg Father’s forgiveness. Again.

Across from me sat the Council of State, consisting of twelve familiar faces, and at the center was my father. At the same time, he wasn’t the dad who’d tucked me into bed and read to me.

The king of Belvaria did not look at me, and that hurt more than I expected.

My father might have moved on and remarried after my mother’s death, but he’d always treated me the same way he did his child by his second wife.

Some would have said that as the last child of his first wife, whom he’d loved very much, he’d spoiled me, which led to the current predicament.

To have that affection removed from me at a time I needed it most—when my heart was broken, and all around me, even the servants whispered—was worse than a stab in the back.

In just thirty-six hours, my whole life had changed. I was no longer just the accidental heir, Soren Maximilian Aurelius Leontes, His Royal Highness the Crown Prince, Prince of Belvaria, Count of Veyr. Now, the whole kingdom whispered of Soren the Spy for a foreign land.

“Prince Soren, thank you for attending,” Chancellor Edmund Presley said, his voice smooth, measured, and filled with malice.

He’d been my harshest critic since I’d stepped into the role because his daughter had been engaged to the late crown prince, which meant she would have been Belvaria’s future queen.

The chancellor never quite forgave me for refusing to accept my brother’s intended as my bride.

Not only did I have no romantic feelings for Isolde, but I was gay.

And even if I weren’t, I wouldn’t have married her.

Filling in for my brother as a crown prince was bad enough.

I refused to take the woman he’d loved too, no matter how much everyone, including my father, had tried to convince me that it was what Marcel would have wanted.

I inclined my head in a nod of acknowledgment more out of protocol than respect.

“We are here,” he continued, “to address breaches of conduct incompatible with the role of crown prince.”

The words echoed in the chamber, bouncing off stone that had watched centuries of men from my family rise and fall. I wondered how many of them had stood where I was now, facing a similar predicament.

I was to be punished for having loved someone who’d betrayed me.

The chancellor gestured to an attendant, and a slim dossier was placed on the table in front of him. I recognized it immediately. I’d seen copies of it in briefing rooms before.

Except this one was mine.

“Over the course of the last six months,” he said, “you maintained an undisclosed relationship with the son of a senior figure from another state. Is that correct?”

He didn’t say the country’s name, but he didn’t need to. Rosenmark and Belvaria had a history of strained relations, built on generations of territorial disputes, fragile alliances, and the constant fear that one wrong move could turn centuries of tension into war.

“Correct,” I said, wishing my voice came out stronger.

I’d always been soft-spoken, but after I became crown prince, even my voice had been treated as property of the state.

Coaches had drilled me on intonation, enunciation, projection, and the precise placement of pauses until speaking no longer felt natural.

It was another performance, one more royal duty I was expected to execute flawlessly in front of a public waiting for me to become the beloved prince they’d lost.

“During that time, information pertaining to Belvarian economic positioning, diplomatic intent, and internal stability was leveraged against us,” said Chancellor Presley.

Leveraged because of me, because I’d been taught a lot of things in the past eighteen months, but no one had ever taught me just how difficult it was to love when you were the crown prince.

They didn’t understand that my brother had had his whole life to perfect being the next king, while they’d expected me to learn everything in eighteen months.

I’d thought Felipe was the universe’s way of helping me to cope with the changes. Instead, the universe had played a cruel trick on me.

“You might not have personally handed him classified documents, and I am certain you did not act with malicious intent, but that does not negate the consequences we suffered as a result of your disregard for protocol.”

My father shifted slightly, but he didn’t speak, and I didn’t expect him to, even though I longed for him to remind them I was still learning and it was human to make errors. I would learn from my mistakes and never trust another man with my heart.

“The Crown cannot be made vulnerable at a time like this,” the chancellor said. “And vulnerability, as you have demonstrated, is not always born of disloyalty. Sometimes it is born of attachment to the wrong people and not enough commitment to the Crown.”

I lifted my gaze then, finally meeting my father’s eyes.

He looked older than I remembered. Smaller, somehow.

Circles rimmed his eyes, and the lines on his face were more pronounced.

He’d aged since my indiscretion became public, and for that, I had an intense regret.

My father was a good man and an even better king.

He didn’t deserve to lose two sons and be faced with the shame of the third.

“Do you have anything to say, Prince Soren?” the chancellor asked.

And there it was. The illusion of choice.

I already knew they’d met and discussed what transpired without me.

My presence in that room was nothing but a formality because they’d already made their decision as to my punishment.

They’d probably force me to marry Isolde, who, like my brother, had been shaped to rule beside the next king.

They probably thought that with her by my side, I would be less prone to making mistakes.

“Prince Soren?” the chancellor prompted.

“I loved him,” I said quietly.

A murmur rippled through the chamber. I squared my chin, refusing to cower behind the looks of shock and irritation.

My father closed his eyes.

“I believed him,” I continued. “And I believed he loved me too.”

The chancellor cleared his throat. “This is not—”

“I know,” I said. My voice didn’t shake this time, which surprised me. Maybe because it’d finally sunk in that I’d tried. I’d tried so damn hard for the past eighteen months without any acknowledgment of all I’d given up to serve this country.

“My feelings about the matter aren’t relevant. The only thing that matters is Belvaria’s interest, so whatever is decided, I graciously accept.”

Silence fell heavy and final.

“Very well then.” The chancellor stood. “After due consideration by the Council of State, consultation with the Royal Household, and review by the appropriate ministers, this body affirms the recommendation already placed before it. Effective immediately, His Royal Highness Prince Soren Maximilian Aurelius Leontes is relieved of the designation of crown prince of Belvaria, together with all privileges, duties, and authorities attached to that office. He shall retain the courtesy title of prince but shall hold no official position within the Crown, the government, or the state.”

Shock rooted me to the polished stone floor.

I knew my crime was serious. I had known there would be consequences, a demand for a public apology, a temporary withdrawal from official duties, some humiliating period of penance.

I had even prepared myself to be reprimanded in front of men who had watched me grow up and had never once considered me strong.

But this?

My gaze went to my father before I could stop it.

Some desperate, childish part of me still expected him to object.

To stand. To say that I was his son before I was a scandal.

But he remained seated at the head of the chamber, his face composed, his hands folded before him, every inch the king they needed him to be.

Not my father, but their king.

“It is further resolved that Your Royal Highness will depart Belvaria within a month. The Royal Household will make the necessary arrangements for your relocation without a stipend from the Crown. From this point forward, any act, statement, association, or public conduct on your part shall be deemed private and unaffiliated with the Crown of Belvaria.”

They wanted me to leave my own country?

I had traveled extensively. I’d spent summers in other palaces, winters in diplomatic residences, weekends in some of the most beautiful cities in the world. But Belvaria was not an assignment. It was not a place I visited between obligations.

Belvaria was home.

My home.

Father, say something.

“Your Royal Highness, do you understand the terms as they have been presented to you?” The chancellor’s voice cut through the hollow roar in my ears.

I stared at him, though I hardly saw his face. No, I did not understand. No, I did not accept. I did not want to leave my family, my country, or my friends behind.

But my father did not speak, so I nodded once and fought the tears that prickled my eyes.

The chancellor inclined his head, satisfied. “Then this session is concluded. The Royal Household will provide further instructions regarding your departure.”

An hour later, stripped of my epaulets, sash, and medals, I sat on my bed, staring at the photograph of my mother cradled in my hands. She’d been so beautiful and kind. At least everyone who knew her said that about her. I’d been too young when she died—only five—to remember much.

How I wish I remembered.

Mother, I’m sorry I let you down.

A knock sounded on my door, and I glanced up as Father entered. Or was he the king of Belvaria at that moment? I couldn’t help feeling the twinge of resentment that shot through me because I couldn’t tell.

“You must have expected this, Soren,” he said softly. “This decision was out of my control, son.”

A tear slipped down my cheek, and I swiped it away. “You’re the king. Nothing is out of your control.”

“You know Belvaria is not an authoritarian rule. We have checks and balances, and the checks were not in your favor this time.”

“I see.”

But I didn’t.

“What were you thinking, Soren?” Father sat next to me on the bed. “In what world did you think you could love that man and still represent Belvaria after our tumultuous history with Rosenmark?”

“Felipe made me feel seen.”

“Seen? I gave you more attention as the crown prince than I ever have before.”

“As the crown prince, Dad, but not me—Soren. The day my brothers died, I ceased to be your son but rather a subject of the state. Felipe was kind and listened to me.”

Father sighed. “Did you truly not know what he would do, or was this a subconscious way of getting us to take away the title from you? You’ve always made it very clear that you never wanted to be the crown prince.”

“I would never betray our country like that, Father. I may not have wanted to be the crown prince, but I came to accept it as my duty. Do you think I want to be forced to leave my home?”

“That is only temporary. We thought it would be in your best interest to leave Belvaria for a while, but I will get that motion lifted as soon as everything dies down.”

“So, what now?”

“If there is a need, your uncle will be named the Prince Regent until Rasheed comes of age. We are still hoping for a match between him and Isolde. She is a decade older than him, but that is not necessarily a bad thing since she will have the experience to support his reign.”

Rasheed, my seventeen-year-old half brother who excelled at everything.

“The Queen must be elated,” I said.

Father rose to his feet, frowning. “Now don’t make this into something ugly, son. Remember, none of this would have happened if you hadn’t broken protocol.”

Of course. It was my fault and my shame to bear being the first deposed crown prince of Belvaria.