27. Soren
SOREN
A month after returning to Belvaria, I sat inside the High Court and waited for the man who had destroyed my life to learn the consequences of framing a member of the royal family and of committing treason.
I suspected the punishment would be far more severe than my banishment.
At least he would be spared from death, given Belvaria had abolished the death penalty over two decades ago.
The courtroom was fuller than I’d expected. Members of the press occupied the rear benches, while government officials, royal advisors, and members of the chancellor’s family sat closer to the front. Uniformed guards stood beside each entrance to ensure the proceedings went without mishap.
Former Chancellor Edmund Presley sat several rows ahead of me beside his attorneys. This was my first time being present at the hearing, as I’d deliberately stayed away, and he looked smaller than I remembered.
For most of my life, Chancellor Presley had seemed untouchable.
He was a force to be reckoned with in the court.
He had advised my father, spoken during council meetings as though every opinion he offered carried the weight of law, and stood beside the throne during some of the most important moments in Belvarian history.
Our two families would have been joined had my brother not died.
Now his shoulders were bowed, and the gray in his hair looked more noticeable beneath the harsh courtroom lights.
Beside me, Julian leaned closer. “You are still certain you want to speak, Your Highness?”
I glanced at him. Before the hearing, I had requested permission to address the court. The presiding judge had deliberated my request and approved it, allowing me to speak before the sentence was handed down.
At the time, I had been certain, but now that the moment was almost at hand, my palms felt damp inside my gloves.
“I thought I was,” I admitted.
“You are not obligated to do this.”
My gaze returned to the front of the courtroom. Perhaps silence would be easier.
Since becoming crown prince the first time, my words had been written for me.
Advisers had told me what to say, where to pause, and how long to hold eye contact.
Even my apology after I was accused of being a traitor, which had been published in every newspaper in Belvaria and neighboring countries, had been revised until it barely sounded like mine.
Then I remembered Jude.
He had never demanded perfection from me. When I’d ruined dinner, he’d taught me to cook over and over until I got it. When I’d failed at something simple, he’d reminded me that not knowing was not the same as being incapable. And when I’d doubted myself, he’d believed in me enough for both of us.
My chest tightened and my heart hurt. A month had passed since he’d ended our relationship.
I’d spent thirty-one days without his voice, every single one torturous without waking up beside him and hearing him call me his little prince.
The word prince didn’t roll off anyone else’s tongue quite the way it did his.
I had returned to Belvaria because I wanted to serve my people, but every room in the palace felt larger without him, and every success felt incomplete without him there to celebrate with.
Julian nudged my arm. “Your Royal Highness.”
I blinked.
The judge was looking at me.
“It is time.”
Crap. I’d spaced out thinking about Jude again. I rose, the courtroom quiet as I walked toward the small witness stand positioned near the front. A microphone had been placed on top, adjusted lower before I’d arrived.
I rested both hands against the edge.
“Your Honor, members of the court, citizens of Belvaria,” I said, using every bit of what I’d been taught about diction.
“The actions committed by the former chancellor, Edmund Presley, did not harm just one person. They hurt a family already familiar with loss, and through defamation, weakened the trust placed in the Crown.”
“My family lost its first two princes in a tragedy we are still learning to live with. Years later, because of the chancellor’s ambition, the Crown was forced to endure the loss of a third.”
My throat tightened, but I continued.
“I was removed from my position, separated from my family, and made to believe that my own failures had caused harm to the country I loved.
I will not stand before you and pretend I was prepared for every responsibility placed upon me.
I was sheltered. I lacked experience, and there were many things I did not understand.
“But I was never given a true opportunity to become the crown prince Belvaria needed.”
My eyes met the chancellor’s. “You decided I would fail before I had the chance to learn. Then you created the failure you expected others to see, and for a nation to lose a third prince in two years, that is unforgivable.”
“For a long time, I believed leadership was inherited through blood and protected through title. I know better now.”
I thought of Halo House.
Of Phoenix opening his doors to people who had nowhere else to go.
Of Aaron choosing compassion even when duty became painful.
Of Jude giving until there was almost nothing left for himself.
“A true leader does not place personal ambition above the people entrusted to him,” I continued. “Leadership is not power. It is a service. It is recognizing that every decision made in these halls affects families who may never stand before us, but whose lives remain our responsibility.”
My hands steadied.
“Today I want to thank the presiding judge for allowing me the opportunity to say publicly that I forgive you, Chancellor. Not because the harm no longer matters, but because I refuse to allow your choices to shape the rest of my life.”
For the first time, he looked at me, and I stared back at him, speaking only to him this time.
“And while my forgiveness does not exempt you from facing the consequences of your crimes, I want you to know that the royal family will ensure your granddaughter, Isolde, is protected and cared for, as my brother would have wanted. Thank you, Your Honor.”
The judge gave me a respectful nod. “Well said, Your Royal Highness.”
I bowed my head, then walked away, but I didn’t return to my seat. I’d done what I’d come here to do. Julian hurried after me, catching up outside the closed doors. Members of the security team instantly flanked us.
“The sentence is about to be announced,” he said. “Do you not wish to hear it?”
“It is not necessary. Let’s return to the palace. Father and I have much to debate.”
Since I’d returned to Belvaria, I’d taken to learning as much as I could from my father.
Now, instead of shirking my duties, I was eager to sit in on council meetings, review policy proposals, and listen to the concerns brought before the Crown.
For the first time, I understood that ruling was not about appearances or ceremony.
It was about paying attention to the people whose lives were affected by every decision we made.
And debating policies with Father in the confines of his chambers, just the two of us, was one of the highlights of my days.
Outside, the courthouse steps were packed with people who had come to witness the sentencing in real time. This was one of the most serious cases in Belvarian history, and it was even being broadcast live on streaming platforms in an effort to restore the royal family’s dignity.
Journalists surged toward the erected barriers being guarded by members of the security forces. The bodyguards surrounded me, keeping a watchful eye in case anyone broke through the barriers.
“Your Royal Highness,” a member of the press threw at me, “how do you feel about the chancellor’s betrayal? He was one of your father’s most trusted advisors.”
“Do you believe the sentence will be severe enough?”
“Will the royal family pursue further charges?”
“What do you make of the people who believe the chancellor’s means were unconventional but necessary to prevent Belvaria from having an incompetent future ruler?”
The questions rolled right off my back, where I would have been offended before. Cameras flashed, blinding me, and I wished I hadn’t left my shades in the limousine. Security formed a path around us as we walked toward the vehicle.
I kept moving toward it.
“Prince Soren, is it true you spent several weeks living in a brothel called Halo House?”
The door to the limousine opened. One more step and I would have been inside, but the question gnawed at me.
“Don’t answer that question,” Julian whispered.
“What is your connection to Halo House?” another reporter threw out.
“Halo House is a remarkable place that offers shelter to those who are in need,” I said, quiet falling around us as I projected my voice so everyone could hear and not misconstrue my connection to the shelter.
“When others turned their backs on me, its doors were opened without judgment or question. I have the utmost respect for Phoenix, its owner, and for Officer Aaron Vale, who took me there when I had nowhere else to go.”
Because my country turned its back on me.
I bit my tongue to keep that part to myself.
“Did you make any meaningful connections while living there?”
Jude’s face entered my mind, his body covered in sawdust, his hands around me, his voice telling me I was capable. The air around me suddenly felt insufficient.
“Yes,” I said without elaborating, then entered the car.
Julian took a seat next to me and closed the door. When the car drove off, he raised the privacy screen.
“That was a bad idea, talking about Halo House,” he said.
“I do not mind the people believing I lived in a brothel, but I refuse to have them malign the place Phoenix works so hard to keep running.”
I spoke to Phoenix from time to time, though not as often as I would have liked, given our time difference. I kept pressing him for information about Jude and how he was doing, my stomach cramping until he reassured me each time that Jude hadn’t taken another sub.