Chapter 7 - The Queen Mother's First Lie
By dawn, the royal palace had become the center of a national scandal.
The canceled wedding was everywhere.
Television stations replayed footage of Eleanor Reed shouting about Isabelle.
Commentators debated the prince's sudden disappearance.
Photographs of Victoria crying on the palace steps circulated across social media.
And the Office of the Crown Regent released a statement that changed everything.
Prince Alexander Whitmore is experiencing a serious personal crisis and has temporarily withdrawn from public duties.
Alexander read the announcement on Gabriel's laptop.
Then he read the next sentence.
Queen Mother Margaret Whitmore will oversee essential constitutional functions pending an independent medical assessment.
He looked up.
“They're declaring me mentally unfit.”
Gabriel nodded.
“It's the first step.”
“Toward what?”
“A formal transfer of royal authority.”
Alexander glanced toward Isabelle and Henry.
They were asleep on a sofa in Gabriel's secure apartment.
Henry had refused to close his eyes until Alexander promised he would stay in the room.
For the first time in his life, Alexander understood that a promise to a child carried more weight than an oath before parliament.
“Can they do it?” he asked.
“Not without an independent constitutional review.”
“Who appoints the reviewers?”
“Parliament.”
“And Harrow?”
“He controls the legal submissions.”
Alexander looked toward the television.
His mother was approaching a podium inside the palace.
She wore black.
Not the sapphire gown from the wedding.
Black.
The same color she'd worn after Isabelle's supposed death.
“Turn it up.”
Margaret began speaking.
“My son has suffered a deeply distressing personal episode.”
Alexander stood motionless.
“We ask the public to respect his privacy while qualified professionals provide him with the care he needs.”
Gabriel muttered something under his breath.
Margaret continued.
“Recent claims concerning a woman who died eleven years ago are being investigated.”
Alexander felt rage rise.
She was still calling Isabelle dead.
Still.
After seeing the photograph.
After watching her own grandson disappear.
Then Margaret said something unexpected.
“I have always acted in what I believed to be the best interests of my family.”
Her voice faltered.
Only for a second.
But Alexander noticed.
“So have the people who served my late husband.”
Gabriel leaned forward.
“That's interesting.”
“What?”
“She just shifted responsibility toward Edward's administration.”
Alexander watched his mother leave the podium.
“She knows something's coming.”
Gabriel nodded.
“Then let's show you what your father left.”
He inserted the memory card into an isolated computer.
A directory appeared.
Several encrypted files.
One video.
And a folder labeled BLACKTHORN — ORIGINAL AUTHORIZATIONS.
Alexander clicked the video.
Edward appeared.
This recording was different from the first.
The king wore ordinary clothes.
He was sitting in a small room with no royal insignia.
His face was grim.
“Alexander,” he began, “if you've reached this file, I hope Isabelle and the child are safe.”
Alexander lowered himself into a chair.
Edward continued.
“I need to tell you how this began.”
The screen shifted to a scanned document.
A private agreement.
Eleven years old.
Signed by Margaret Whitmore.
The agreement authorized temporary protective custody for Isabelle Hart.
The stated purpose was her safety during an investigation into threats against the royal household.
The duration was seventy-two hours.
Alexander stared.
“Seventy-two hours.”
Gabriel nodded.
“That's what Margaret originally signed.”
Alexander leaned closer.
A second document appeared.
It extended custody to thirty days.
Then another.
Six months.
Then an indefinite medical order.
The signatures changed.
Some were Margaret's.
Others were attributed to Edward.
And several carried Alexander's name.
He felt sick.
“I didn't sign any of those.”
Gabriel nodded.
“We know.”
Edward's voice resumed.
“Margaret believed Isabelle would be hidden briefly while the authorities investigated the financial evidence she had uncovered.”
“She was wrong.”
“Edmund Harrow used her disappearance to conceal the diversion of foundation money.”
Alexander looked at Gabriel.
“Then my mother wasn't involved in the whole thing?”
“Not at first.”
The king continued.
“When Margaret discovered the truth, Harrow warned her that exposing the scheme would destroy our family.”
Edward lowered his head.
“She chose silence.”
Alexander looked toward the sleeping Isabelle.
She had lost eleven years because his mother chose silence.
Edward's face filled the screen again.
“I should have gone to the police.”
“I should have told you.”
“I should have saved Isabelle before Henry was born.”
A long pause followed.
“But I kept believing I could repair the damage privately.”
He leaned forward.
“That was my greatest failure.”
Alexander swallowed.
The recording continued.
“If there is one thing I want you to understand, it is this.”
“Your mother may have started the lie.”
“But Harrow learned how to make the lie profitable.”
The screen changed.
Bank records appeared.
Transfers.
Company names.
Foundation accounts.
Then Alexander saw a name he recognized.
ASHBOURNE CAPITAL HOLDINGS.
Victoria's family business.
Millions had passed through accounts connected to the company.
Alexander leaned closer.
“What does Victoria know?”
Gabriel looked troubled.
“We don't know yet.”
The recording resumed.
Edward spoke more quietly.
“There is one final matter.”
“I have reason to believe Edmund Harrow has arranged for my removal.”
Alexander went cold.
“Removal?”
Edward continued.
“I cannot prove that he intends to harm me.”
“But I have received threats.”
“And my medical treatment is now controlled by individuals I did not appoint.”
Alexander stared.
Gabriel placed a hand on his shoulder.
The king looked directly at the camera.
“If I die unexpectedly, do not allow the royal household to investigate itself.”
The recording ended.
Nobody spoke.
Alexander sat motionless.
Then he stood.
“I'm going to the palace.”
Gabriel shook his head.
“Not yet.”
“My mother needs to answer for this.”
“She does.”
“Then why wait?”
“Because if you confront her without independent evidence, Harrow will claim you're unstable.”
Alexander looked toward the television.
The palace statement was still scrolling across the screen.
He took a slow breath.
“What do you suggest?”
Gabriel opened another folder.
“Your father was supposed to present these files to a parliamentary commission.”
“Who chaired it?”
“A constitutional judge named Evelyn Mercer.”
Alexander frowned.
“She's retired.”
“She was forced to retire.”
“Can we trust her?”
Gabriel nodded.
“She lost her career trying to expose Blackthorn.”
Alexander glanced at Isabelle.
Then at Henry.
“Where is she?”
“Three hours away.”
Alexander shook his head.
“We don't have three hours.”
Gabriel studied him.
“Then we'll bring her here.”
A phone rang.
Ruth answered from the adjoining room.
She listened.
Then appeared in the doorway.
“Gabriel.”
Something in her voice made them turn.
“There's a woman downstairs.”
“Who?”
Ruth looked toward Alexander.
“She says she's your bride.”
Alexander's expression darkened.
“Victoria?”
Ruth nodded.
“She says she has proof that Harrow forged the transfer order.”
Gabriel reached for his phone.
But Ruth raised a hand.
“There's more.”
Alexander waited.
“She says she's carrying the original marriage agreement.”
“What marriage agreement?”
Ruth swallowed.
“The one signed before you were born.”
May you like
Alexander stared.
And suddenly he realized that his engagement to Victoria might have been arranged long before either of them knew what marriage meant.
