Chapter 43 #2
“Oh no, it never is with you,” Sebastian pressed, something cracking open behind his eyes.
His voice dropped, losing its practiced lightness, revealing something raw underneath.
“You hide behind duty while watching your life be dictated to you.” The words were cutting, but beneath them was a desperation, a plea for Alexander to understand.
“I have responsibilities you don’t understand,” Alexander countered. “Every move I make affects the entire kingdom.”
Sebastian leaned closer, eyes blazing with intensity, his usual artifice completely stripped away.
“Right, because you’re the legitimate son, the crown prince, while my identity is built on lies.
” He pressed his fingertips against the arm of his chair.
“I was raised as Lord Hawthorne’s heir, given all the privileges that come with it.
But now I learn it’s all a facade that he can shatter the moment I become inconvenient. ”
He laughed bitterly. “My entire life is political leverage. He made that perfectly clear. If I don’t do exactly as he wants, he can reveal me as the royal bastard whenever it suits him.
My choices are to be his puppet or face public scandal and lose everything I’ve known.
” His voice dropped. “Your path may be constrained, but at least it’s yours. Mine belongs to him.”
The words hung between them, raw and exposed. Alexander stared at Sebastian, truly seeing him perhaps for the first time.
“Sebastian…” Alexander set his glass down carefully. “Our father’s actions destroyed your life before it even began.” The realization physically pained him. “And instead of seeing that, I’ve been drowning in my own problems while you’ve carried the wreckage our family created.”
His composure cracked. “I’m sorry. About Lord Hawthorne—your mother—about everything. About being part of the family that shattered yours.”
Sebastian looked away, jaw tightening. “I don’t want your pity.” The words were harsh, but his voice trembled slightly, betraying the emotion he was trying to hide.
“It’s not pity,” Alexander said firmly, reaching out to grip Sebastian’s wrist—a gesture so uncharacteristic it froze Sebastian in place.
His fingers tightened briefly before releasing.
“It’s realizing that I’ve been so focused on what I might lose that I never acknowledged what you never had the chance to have.
” He hesitated, then added quietly, “I’m here, Sebastian.
Whatever that’s worth. Not as the prince. As your brother.”
The word hung between them. Brother. And suddenly, the anger drained from Sebastian, leaving something far more vulnerable in its place.
His shoulders sagged, the fight leaving him as quickly as it had come.
He stared into his drink, silent for a long moment as he absorbed the word, the meaning behind it.
“You know what terrifies me the most?” Sebastian said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, not meeting Alexander’s eyes. “What if I’m just like him? What if I’m becoming Lord Hawthorne?”
Alexander frowned, clearly caught off guard by this sudden shift.
“You don’t see it, do you?” Sebastian continued, his voice hollow, all pretense gone. “The way I manipulate people. The way I can read a room, know exactly what buttons to push.” He laughed bitterly. “That’s all him. He said it himself—that I take after him ‘in all the ways that matter.’”
Sebastian looked up, his eyes haunted. “What if he’s right? What if that’s my real inheritance? Not our father’s charm, but Lord Hawthorne’s… calculation. His coldness.” He swallowed hard. “What if I’m just as evil as he is, only better at hiding it?”
The vulnerability in Sebastian’s voice was like nothing Alexander had ever heard from him before. For the first time, he was seeing past the carefully constructed facade his friend—his brother—had maintained for years.
“Sebastian,” Alexander said firmly, “you’re nothing like him.”
“How can you be so sure?” Sebastian challenged, but there was no fire in it now—just fear, just the need for reassurance.
“Because I know you,” Alexander replied simply. “Lord Hawthorne uses people because he sees them as tools. You understand people because you actually see them.” He leaned forward. “There’s a difference.”
A silence stretched between them, fragile and uncertain. Sebastian’s fingers tightened around his glass, his eyes fixed on some distant point.
“You know, it’s absurd,” Alexander continued, his voice low. “But I’ve always been jealous of you.”
Sebastian’s head snapped up, disbelief written across his features. “What?”
Alexander gave a rueful smile. “Your charm. Your ease with people. The way you walk into a room and instantly command it.” He shook his head slightly. “You always reminded me of our father in that way.”
Sebastian stared at him, genuinely caught off guard, the revelation momentarily stripping away his defenses.
“Everyone loves you without trying,” Alexander continued. “While I… I always had to make an effort.” He met Sebastian’s gaze directly. “You’ve always had what I never could—his natural grace.”
Sebastian’s throat worked as he swallowed, still struggling to process this revelation. He straightened slightly, reaching for familiar armor, offering a brittle smile.
“Well,” he said, voice deliberately light though his eyes remained shadowed, “this got maudlin quickly.”
Alexander let him have the deflection. He then stood up and started to pace in thought. “I still don’t know what to do.”
Sebastian stood and gave him a hard look.
“Alexander, you’re going to be king. That means that you don’t have to play by their rules, you have a chance to make your own rules.
” He turned, something vulnerable still lingering in his eyes.
“If you actually want something, then for once in your life, start acting like it. Before it’s too late. ”
He tossed back his drink and walked out, leaving Alexander with the crushing weight of truth.
Sebastian had barely made it three steps down the hall when Alexander called after him.
“Wait. You’re right.”
Sebastian blinked. “Did I just hear royal self-awareness? Or am I really just that drunk?”
“If I keep playing by their rules, I’ll lose Emilia and my self-respect with her.”
Sebastian leaned against the doorframe, trying to hide his surprise. “This is historic. I need a moment to savor it.”
Alexander shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his mouth. “I need a new strategy and I think I need your help.” He met Sebastian’s gaze, a new understanding between them. “Are you in?”
Sebastian stood up straighter. “Finally. I was tired of the prince-mopes-while-his-life-falls-apart montage.”
“First,” Alexander said, “we need to sway opinion with Parliament, but also with the public. We’re probably also going to need some kind of leverage with my mother.”
Mischief glinted in Sebastian’s eyes. “Sounds vaguely treasonous. I love it. Continue.”
Alexander nodded. “And I want Harper involved.”
Sebastian groaned. “Of course you do.”
“She’s Emilia’s friend, she’ll want to help,” Alexander pointed out. “And let’s be honest—if we don’t bring her in, she’s probably going to stir up her own trouble anyway.”
Sebastian huffed in exasperation as if the weight of the world rested solely on his shoulders. “Fantastic. Another round of ‘Harper Sinclair Knows Best.’ Remind me to take notes.”
Alexander gave him a knowing look. “You enjoy it.”
Sebastian’s mouth twitched. “I enjoy the battle. There’s a difference.”
“So just to clarify… are we going full scorched earth?”
Alexander exhaled, his expression unreadable for a long moment. Then, finally, for the first time in a long time, he didn’t seem hesitant.
“If that’s what it takes,” he said, voice quiet but firm, “then yes.”
Sebastian grinned, rocking back on his heels. The prospect of action—of finally having some control over his own narrative—felt like the first real thing he’d had in days.
“Oh, now we’re talking. Let’s ruin some lives.”