LOGINLiam's POV
"Oh! I didn't know that you two were so close." My mum smiled at us, holding the two glasses of orange soda she had brought for us.
I exhaled so quietly that nobody heard it. From her response, it was clear that she hadn't read anything negative into whatever she walked in on. I mean, nothing like what I had been bracing myself for. The story my brain had already started writing in those few seconds of silence had been completely wrong and I was more than happy to let it die there.
I quickly took the two glasses of orange soda from her and set them on the table beside me. Ken and I both faked a smile at the same time, which was honestly the most in sync we had ever been since the moment we met.
"We are just friends." I said, then turned to Ken with the most natural expression I could pull together on a short notice. "Really good friends at school, right?" I nodded slowly while I said it — the kind of nod that was really a signal and Ken, to his credit, picked it up without missing a beat.
He smiled back and tapped my shoulder gently. "Sure. We are friends at school."
I almost believed it myself.
"Well, that's nice." My mum's whole face softened the way it does when something genuinely makes her happy. "Because I think my son Liam is such a good kid. You know, he works part-time, gets good grades and he just never brings anybody home." She paused and then tilted her head. "Not even a girl."
She said it with a smile that told me she thought that last part was cute and funny. I did not share that opinion.
"So since it seems like you know him a little better than I do…" she turned to Ken, fully committed now, "...are there any cute girls that he likes to hang out with at school?"
And then she actually did a little demonstration. Shoulders back, hand on her hip, this whole exaggerated impression of what a cute girl apparently looked like. I wanted the floor to open and take me gently.
Ken found it hilarious as I could see it the moment it happened in the way his whole face lit up and he bit down on the inside of his cheek trying not to lose it completely. He was grinning from ear to ear when he finally opened his mouth and said, "please, I know. I am sure there are plenty of girls who like Liam." He let that breathe for exactly one second. "I am just not sure if Liam likes girls."
I knew exactly what he was doing.
Because we both knew the truth — none of the girls at Pathways gave me a second look. As far as they were concerned, I was the broke scholarship kid who had no business being in the same building as them, let alone their social circle. I could beat my chest that Ken knew that and he was sitting right there choosing to play with fire while my mum stood in front of us completely unaware of the grenade he was slowly pulling the pin out of.
I cut in before he could get any further. "Girls my age, you mean?" I said it directly at him, and then pivoted to my mum without giving him space to respond. "Obviously, mum. Of course I like girls."
She smiled slightly, letting it go but only for about three seconds. "Well, if not girls your age — then like MILFs?" She squinted like she was genuinely trying to remember the word correctly. "Is that what you kids call older women these days? Like my age?"
"Mum." I said her name flat and firm.
"Yeah?"
"Please stop talking."
Ken pressed his lips together beside me. He was absolutely loving this and the fact that he was making zero effort to hide it was doing nothing good for my blood pressure.
"You know, I don't really think age matters." Ken jumped back in, voice smooth, like he had been waiting patiently for his turn. "Like, if you like them enough, then age…" He paused just long enough to make it deliberate. "Gender shouldn't even matter."
My mum was nodding before he even finished the sentence. Just fully on board, no hesitation, like he had said the most reasonable thing she had ever heard in her life.
Then Ken shifted his gaze to me slowly, and then licked his lips.
My mum didn't catch that part but I did though and Ken knew I did. I held his eyes for a second and said absolutely nothing. Then he dipped his finger into one of the glasses of orange soda and brought it to his mouth. "Hmmmm." That satisfied sound he made was so deliberately annoying that I had to actively remind myself to keep the expression on my face neutral.
"Yeah." I smiled back at him in the most expensive smile I had ever produced in my life.
But I wasn't about to just sit there and let him run the table. "Some people don't care about age at all, really." I kept the smile going. "Some people even sleep with teachers to fix their grades." I let that land softly and added, "or so I've heard. Let's say… rumors."
My mum's face changed immediately. "My God, I hope your classmates are not doing that."
I looked at Ken sweetly and waited.
He held it together for about two seconds before he shot back. "Oh please — people just want to be more like Liam, you know? Perfect grades, perfect kid." Then he tilted his head like something had just occurred to him. "And a really talented artist, have you seen his artwork?" He looked at my mum now, completely earnest. "Seriously, you should see his stuff. I mean… it's unforgettable."
Something cold moved through my chest the moment I saw his hand move before I could process what was happening. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the sketchbook…my sketchbook, and held it out toward my mum like it was the most normal thing in the world.
"No!!! No!! No!" I moved fast but not fast enough. "Wait, mum, no!" She had already taken it from his hands before I could get there.
Her face lit up the second it was in her hands. "Oh! My goodness. Why haven't you shown me?"
I stood there, completely frozen, watching her fingers curl around the cover of the one thing in this house I had kept completely to myself. The one thing that was never supposed to leave from under that pillow. My stomach sank all the way down and the gasp that left my mouth wasn't something I could have stopped even if I tried.
Ken stood right beside me with the most satisfied look on his face and all I could do was watch.
I knew that the reaction from my mum wouldn't be something that I was prepared for.
Prince Ken's POVThe statement had been written and rewritten four times.Not because I did not know what I wanted to say. Of course, I had known that for weeks now…right in that afternoon at the cove when I had told Liam I was going to ask him something properly when the time came. But because the words that lived in my chest did not always translate cleanly into the kind of language that stood on palace steps and reached a country, and I had wanted to get it right.Jenny had reviewed the final version that morning. Then, she had made two small adjustments and returned it without comment, which was her way of saying she approved.My mother had read it the evening before. She had looked at it for a long time and then looked at me and said, "It is good, Ken. Say it simply and mean every word." Which was the most direct writing advice she had ever given me and also, I suspected, the most important.Liam had not read it.I had asked him if he wanted to and he had said no. He said he woul
Liam's POVThe courtroom was full.It was full in the way courtrooms were full when something was being concluded, which had a different quality entirely. Quieter. More contained. The specific stillness of people who had come to watch an ending.I was in the gallery with Ken beside me and Jenny two seats to his left. Queen Helen had chosen not to attend, which I understood as there was nothing she needed from this room that she had not already decided about. But Ken had wanted to be here, and I had wanted to be beside him, and so here we were.The charges had been heard over three weeks of proceedings. But today was the sentencing.Uncle Jones sat at the defendant's table with his lawyer and looked at the room with the expression he had worn his entire life in the little time I have come to know him… patient, settled, the appearance of someone who was still running calculations even at the point when the calculations had stopped being useful.I had been watching that expression for we
Liam's POVQueen Helen's private sitting room was smaller than most of the rooms in the palace that I had been in for official purposes. No long table. No formal arrangement of chairs designed to communicate hierarchy before anyone sat down. Just a room that a person actually lived in …with books on the shelf that had been read rather than displayed, a writing desk with papers that had not been tidied for our arrival, two armchairs and a small sofa arranged around a low table.It felt more like her than any other room I had been in.She was standing when we arrived, which was the formal version of receiving us. She gestured to the sofa and waited until we had sat before she sat in the armchair across from us … not the one at the head of any imaginary table, just across, the way people sat when the conversation was meant to be between equals rather than between a queen and two people who needed something from her."Thank you for agreeing to meet with us," Ken said."You are the King,"
Liam's POVI had been sitting with the question for weeks.Not because I was afraid of the answer … you know, I had stopped being afraid of most things that required honest conversation somewhere around the time I had stood in a coronation hall and watched Ken say what he said. But because the question had a shape to it that was difficult to hold, and every time I had come close to raising it, something else had arrived that made it feel like the wrong moment.The council review. The kidnap attempt. The court proceedings.There was always something.But we were sitting in the palace garden on a Tuesday afternoon with nothing urgent pressing from any direction, and Ken was reading something on his tablet. Maybe for the fact that I was not reading anything, the question was sitting in my chest the way it always sat when I had been carrying it for too long."Ken," I said.He looked up."I need to ask you something," I said. "And I need you to not have a prepared answer. I need you to act
King Ken's POV.I got to Jenny's office and knocked on her office door… that was 7AM.She looked up from her desk with the expression she wore when she was already 3 hours into her day and was not surprised to see me but was waiting to find out what I needed."I need you to clear tomorrow," I said.She looked at me. "Clear it entirely?""No engagements," I said. "No council. No press. No schedule whatsoever."She held her pen over the page for a moment. "For the full day?""Yeah, for the full day." I confirmed.She wrote something in the margin of the schedule in front of her … not on the schedule itself, in the margin, which was Jenny's way of noting something she was going to handle without it becoming part of the official record. Then she looked up at me."Anything else?" she said."No," I said. "That is everything."She nodded once and looked back at her work, which was Jenny's way of telling me the conversation was concluded and she had what she needed.I had not explained furthe
Liam's POVThe sentence was read at 11 in the morning.‘Community service … 200 hours, to be completed within 18 months. A permanent ban from palace employment and any royal household affiliated positions. A formal caution on her record. No prison time, in recognition of her full and immediate cooperation with the investigation and her willingness to testify against Uncle Jones without requiring compulsion.’The judge delivered it in the same flat, unhurried voice that courtrooms used for everything, and Rhoda stood and received it with her hands clasped in front of her and her eyes looking at the floor.I was in the gallery.Ken had offered to come. Although I had told him this was something I needed to attend on my own, which he had accepted without argument … we had both gotten better at accepting those boundaries without making them into something they were not.I watched Rhoda from the gallery as the sentence was confirmed and the formal proceedings closed, and I sat with whateve







