Page 88 of Throne Off Course

Alexander placed the letters onto the table in front of him. “I—I found something.”

Sebastian frowned, picking one up. His eyes scanned the first few lines, his expression unchanged. Then something shifted—subtle but unmistakable. The color drained from his face as he continued reading, his practiced nonchalance crumbling with each word.

By the time he reached the end, Sebastian had gone completely still, the paper trembling almost imperceptibly in his grip.

He said nothing. Just set the letters down with careful, deliberate movements, as if handling something volatile.

“Are you okay?” Alexander asked carefully, hovering nearby but keeping his distance.

Sebastian blinked. Once. Twice. Then let out a shaky exhalebefore muttering, deadpan— “I think my soul just left my body for a minute.”

Alexander stared at him, not sure how to respond. “Well. That’s concerning.”

Sebastian exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. His fingers lingered at his jaw, pressing hard enough to whiten the skin. “You think?”

He sat back hard, staring at the ceiling like it might offer some divine intervention. The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. It didn’t break until Sebastian reached for the letters again. As his eyes moved over the words, something in his expression fractured, just for a moment, before he managed to compose himself.

Alexander watched, his own chest tight with shock. He knew that his father had an affair, he’d even known about some kind of financial arrangements, but he’d never suspected anything like this. Now he was with Sebastian—his lifelong friend—showing him the incontrovertible proof that they shared a father… it was unthinkable.

Sebastian set the letters down again, movements unnaturally precise. He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, before reaching for a nearby decanter. He poured himself a generous measure of whiskey without offering any to Alexander, then drank it in one swift motion.

“So,” he said finally, his voice rougher than before, “James Philip was my father.”

It wasn’t a question. Alexander nodded anyway.

Sebastian stared into his empty glass, turning it slowly between his fingers. “And my mother… she made him keep it secret.”

Neither of them spoke for a long moment. Alexander remainedstanding, uncertain where to put himself in this new reality.

“Did you suspect?” Sebastian asked abruptly, looking up with an intensity Alexander had rarely seen from him.

Alexander shook his head. “No, of course not. I only recently knew there was an affair when you showed me the other unsigned letter. I didn’t even know who the affair was with until I found these letters.”

Sebastian let out a short, humorless laugh that seemed to scrape his throat raw. The sound hung in the air between them, brittle as frost.

“And now here we are,” Sebastian murmured, refilling his glass. “Brothers.”

The word seemed to reverberate through the room. Alexander hadn’t even allowed himself to think it yet, but there it was—the unvarnished truth.

“Well technically half-brothers,” Alexander corrected automatically, then immediately regretted it.

Sebastian’s gaze snapped to his, and for a moment, Alexander thought he might lash out. Instead, Sebastian’s mouth quirked in a bitter smile. “Right. Wouldn’t want to overstate my claim on the royal bloodline.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Alexander started, but Sebastian waved him off.

“I know.” He took another sip of whiskey, slower this time. “It doesn’t matter anyway. It’s not like I’m about to challenge you for the throne.” His attempt at humor fell flat, the words hollow.

Alexander sank into the chair opposite, his own shock finally catching up to him. His father—the man he had idolized, the king everyone had adored—had fathered a child with another woman, then hidden that child in plain sight. Had continuedto love that woman even after marrying Alexander’s mother. Had paid to keep the secret buried.

“My father wanted to tell you,” Alexander said quietly, nodding toward the second letter. “He wanted to acknowledge you.”

Sebastian’s expression remained guarded, but something flickered in his eyes—a complicated emotion Alexander couldn’t quite name.

“But he didn’t,” Sebastian replied, his voice carefully neutral. “In the end, he chose silence. Just like my mother did. The classic, I love you, but not enough to deal with the consequences.”

Alexander had no answer for that. The weight of their shared history—and the lies that had shaped it—settled between them like a physical thing.

Sebastian stared at the letters for a long moment, then abruptly stood. “I need to process this,” he said, his voice steadier than it had been. “Preferably with more alcohol and fewer royal revelations.”