The palace never felt like home when it was quiet.
It felt like a museum.
Adrian walked through the east wing alone, his footsteps echoing against marble floors polished so perfectly they reflected the chandeliers above. Portraits of past kings and queens watched him from gilded frames, their painted eyes following him like silent judges.
Every single one of them had chosen duty.
Every single one of them had given something up.
He already knew what the palace expected him to give up next.
"His Majesty is waiting," a guard said, opening the doors to the private council room.
Adrian stepped inside.
His father stood near the tall windows overlooking the royal gardens, hands clasped behind his back. The King didn't turn around immediately. He rarely did. Power, Adrian had learned, liked to make people wait.
"You caused quite a stir at school," the King said at last.
Adrian didn't bother pretending confusion. "If this is about Lara—"
"It is," his father interrupted.
The word Lara sounded strange in this room. Too human. Too real.
"She's a student," Adrian said evenly. "That's all."
"A scholarship student," the King corrected.
Adrian's jaw tightened. "That shouldn't matter."
"But it does."
Silence stretched between them, heavy and familiar.
"She is being harassed," Adrian continued. "Photographed. Followed. Questioned. Because she spoke to me in a library."
"That," his father said calmly, "is precisely why you must be careful with whom you allow close to you."
Adrian laughed once under his breath. "So the solution is what? Never talk to anyone who hasn't been approved by a committee?"
"If necessary."
Adrian looked away, jaw clenched.
"She didn't know who I was," he said. "She talked to me like I was normal."
"That," the King replied, "is exactly the problem."
Across the room, Queen Eleanor finally spoke from her seat at the long table.
"She is not the problem," she said gently. "The attention is."
Adrian's shoulders softened slightly. His mother was the only one in the palace who ever said things like that.
"She looked terrified today," he said quietly. "She was called into the principal's office like she'd committed a crime."
"She stepped into a spotlight," the King said. "And the spotlight belongs to this family. Anyone standing beside you will be examined. Their past. Their motives. Their weaknesses."
"She doesn't have motives," Adrian snapped. "She has textbooks and a part-time job."
"You don't know that," his father said sharply.
Adrian took a step forward. "I do."
The King turned then, and the room seemed to shrink.
"You are the future of this country," he said. "Your friendships, your associations, your… attachments… are not personal matters. They are national matters."
The words hit like cold water.
"She's not an attachment," Adrian said, quieter now. "She's just… someone who didn't treat me like a throne."
"That is a luxury you cannot afford," the King replied.
The Queen stood slowly. "Perhaps we are moving too quickly. They've spoken for what—two days?"
"Two days is all it takes," the King said. "Scandals begin with smaller things."
Adrian ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "So what do you want me to do?"
His father held his gaze.
"Distance yourself," he said. "Immediately. No more private conversations. No more photographs. Let the interest die."
And there it was.
The order, wrapped in calm words.
Adrian thought of the library. Of her chandelier joke. Of the way she looked at everything like it was new instead of boring.
Of how, for one hour, he hadn't felt like property.
"That's not fair," he said.
The King's expression didn't change. "Fairness is not a requirement of the Crown."
Silence fell again.
Then, more quietly—
"You will thank me one day," the King added.
Adrian doubted that.
Later that night, alone in his room, Adrian sat on the edge of his bed, phone in hand.
Her contact wasn't saved as anything special.
Just:
Lara – Library
He stared at the screen, thumb hovering.
If he listened to his father, he wouldn't text her.
He'd ignore her at school. Create distance. Protect the image. Protect the Crown.
Protect her, they would say.
But all he could think about was the look on her face in the hallway — trying to be brave, even while the world turned her into a headline.
This is dangerous for me, she had said.
She wasn't wrong.
His phone buzzed suddenly in his hand, making his heart jump.
A message.
From her.
Lara:
I think we should probably not sit together anymore. It's getting out of control.
He stared at the words for a long time.
Then he typed back.
Adrian:
Yeah. You're probably right.
Three dots appeared almost instantly.
Then disappeared.
Then appeared again.
Finally—
Lara:
I didn't mean I regret talking to you.
His chest tightened.
Adrian:
Neither do I.
He looked at the conversation, at the careful distance already forming in typed words.
This was how it would happen.
Not with a dramatic goodbye.
But with space. Silence. Sacrifice dressed up as responsibility.
Across the palace grounds, the lights of the city flickered in the distance.
Somewhere out there was a girl who made him feel normal.
And for the first time in his life…
Adrian was starting to wonder if normal was worth fighting a crown for.