William stood still, absorbing words that reframed his past. The stories he had grown up with no longer fit neatly together. Grief, anger, and disbelief collided in the space between them.
When the confession ended, the room felt changed. Silence lingered, heavy and unfamiliar. Charles no longer looked like a monarch in that moment, but a man diminished by what he had waited too long to say.
Yet amid the damage, something fragile emerged. William recognized that his strength lay not in punishment, but in choice. He could decide what kind of future would follow.
He resolved that his children would not inherit a legacy built solely on endurance and secrecy. The cycle would stop with him, even if healing remained incomplete. Continue reading…
