Chapter 3 : Flames and Ashes

The Fireplace, Continued

The fire crackled, a hungry sound that seemed to echo the turmoil in Sebastian''s soul. His arm ached from holding the document suspended over the flames, but still he hesitated. The leather binding had begun to curl at the edges, blackening where the heat licked it.

*Let it go*, a voice urged. *Let it burn. Protect Alexander. Protect the family.*

But another voice, quieter but more insistent, whispered: *This is wrong.*

Sebastian''s eyes stung—from the smoke or from tears, he couldn''t tell. In the flickering light, he saw not just paper and ink, but years of work. Thomas Grey''s dedication. Alexander''s hope. The possibility of a better kingdom.

His fingers tightened. The document trembled.

Then, with a sound that was half sob, half surrender, he let it fall.

The leather hit the flames with a soft *whump*. For a moment, it seemed to resist, lying atop the burning logs like a dark bird refusing to die. Then the edges caught, orange tongues creeping across the surface, consuming the title first: *Proposals for the Reform...*

Sebastian watched, mesmerized by the destruction. The pages curled inward, blackening at the edges before the fire reached the text. Words disappeared—*justice*, *equity*, *prosperity*—swallowed by the flames. The leather binding shriveled, releasing the smell of burning hide that mixed with the woodsmoke.

He sank to his knees before the fireplace, his eyes fixed on the dying document. As the last page turned to ash and floated up the chimney, he felt something in himself turn to ash as well. Some part of him that had believed in honor, in loyalty, in being the man Alexander thought he was.

The fire died down, leaving only glowing embers and a small pile of gray flakes that had once been a kingdom''s hope. Sebastian remained on his knees long after the last spark had faded, the heat from the dying fire warming his face while cold settled in his heart.

The Palace Gardens, Dawn

Unable to sleep, Sebastian wandered the palace gardens as dawn painted the sky in shades of rose and gold. The air was cool and damp with dew, the scent of earth and blooming flowers a stark contrast to the acrid smell of burning that still seemed to cling to him.

He followed a gravel path to the training yard, where the clang of steel on steel announced early morning practice. There, in the clear light of the new day, he saw them: two young noble brothers, perhaps fourteen and sixteen, their laughter ringing out as they sparred with wooden practice swords.

The older brother—tall and confident—was clearly instructing the younger. "No, like this," he said, adjusting the boy''s grip. "You''re holding it like a farmer holds a pitchfork."

The younger brother grinned, unoffended. "Maybe I should challenge you to a pitchfork duel instead."

They laughed together, the sound pure and uncomplicated. The older brother demonstrated a parry, his movements fluid and sure. The younger watched intently, then mimicked the motion, earning an approving nod.

"Better," the older said. "Much better."

Sebastian watched from the shadow of an oak tree, his heart aching with a longing so sharp it felt like physical pain. That was how it should be. That was how it had been, once. Alexander teaching him to ride, to fence, to be a prince. Alexander''s patience, his encouragement, his pride when Sebastian mastered a new skill.

*Before the illness*, Sebastian thought. *Before everything changed.*

The brothers finished their practice, slinging arms around each other''s shoulders as they walked toward the palace, still laughing, still talking. Their ease with each other was a living reproach to the secret Sebastian now carried.

He turned away, the image of their camaraderie burning in his mind brighter than any fireplace flame. What would those brothers think if they knew what he had done? What would they think of a man who stole from his own brother, who burned another man''s work in the dark of night?

The sun rose higher, chasing shadows from the garden, but Sebastian felt a darkness within him that no sunlight could reach.

The Tower of London, Mid-Morning

The news reached Kensington Palace like a thunderclap on a clear day.

Sebastian was in his sitting room, pretending to read a book he hadn''t absorbed a word of, when a page burst in without knocking. The boy''s face was pale, his breath coming in gasps.

"Your Grace... Lord Grey... the Tower..."

"Calm yourself," Sebastian said, though his own heart had begun to race. "What about Lord Grey?"

"He''s dead, Your Grace. Found in his cell at the Tower. They''re saying... they''re saying it was poison."

The book slipped from Sebastian''s fingers, hitting the carpet with a soft thud. "Poison? But why was he in the Tower? He wasn''t arrested..."

"The guards found him this morning. He''d been taken there last night for questioning about the missing reform document. And now..." The page swallowed hard. "Now they''re saying the Crown Prince ordered it."

Sebastian''s world tilted. He gripped the arm of his chair to steady himself. "That''s impossible. Alexander would never—"

"Lord Pembroke is already demanding an investigation. He says the Prince wanted Grey silenced before he could reveal... something." The page''s eyes were wide with fear. "They''re gathering in the council chamber now."

Sebastian stood, his legs unsteady. "I need to see Alexander."

But even as he said the words, he knew. Knew with a sickening certainty that settled in the pit of his stomach. The missing document. Grey''s death. The timing was too perfect, too convenient.

*Oh God*, he thought. *What have I done?*

The Council Chamber, Westminster Palace

The atmosphere in the council chamber was electric with tension. Sebastian arrived to find it already packed—nobles in their finery, faces tight with anger or fear, voices raised in heated argument.

Alexander stood at the head of the table, his expression grim. William, their younger brother, stood at his side, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. At twenty-one, William had the build of a soldier and the protective instincts of a guard dog.

"Enough!" Alexander''s voice cut through the noise. "Thomas Grey was my advisor and my friend. I did not order his arrest, and I certainly did not order his death."

Lord Pembroke rose, his face flushed. "Then explain, Your Highness, why he was taken to the Tower in the middle of the night. Explain why the reform document he was preparing for you has disappeared. Explain why a man who opposed your policies ends up dead within hours of being questioned about that disappearance!"

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the room. Sebastian saw the glances exchanged between the conservative lords, the subtle nods. They had been waiting for this moment, he realized. Waiting for a pretext to move against Alexander.

"I cannot explain what I do not understand," Alexander said, his voice tight with controlled anger. "But I will find out. I will discover who did this, and why."

"Or perhaps," said a new voice from the doorway, "we should let an impartial investigation determine the truth."

All heads turned. Richard, their half-brother, stood framed in the doorway. At twenty-two, he shared the family''s dark hair and strong features, but where Alexander''s eyes held conviction and William''s held loyalty, Richard''s held calculation.

"Brother," Alexander said, the word cool. "I wasn''t aware you were in London."

"Father summoned me," Richard replied, stepping into the room. "He''s... concerned. As we all should be. A lord chief justice dead in the Tower? A crown prince under suspicion? This threatens the stability of the kingdom itself."

Sebastian watched the exchange, his stomach churning. Richard had always been ambitious, always resented being born to the king''s second wife, always chafed at being third in line for the throne. Now he saw his opportunity.

"The king has authorized me to oversee an investigation," Richard continued, producing a sealed document. "A special commission, to determine what happened to Thomas Grey and who is responsible."

Alexander''s jaw tightened. "I am the crown prince. Investigations fall under my authority."

"Not when you are the subject of the investigation," Richard said smoothly. "Father''s orders are clear. Until this matter is resolved, you are to remain in the palace. For your own protection, of course."

William stepped forward, his hand tightening on his sword. "You dare—"

"William." Alexander''s voice was sharp. He looked from Richard to the assembled nobles, his eyes finally finding Sebastian''s across the room. In that moment, Sebastian saw something he had never seen in his brother''s face before: doubt. Not doubt of his own innocence, but doubt of the world around him. Doubt of who could be trusted.

It was a look that cut Sebastian deeper than any blade.

"The commission will convene tomorrow," Richard said, breaking the silence. "Testimony will be taken. Evidence examined. The truth will come out." His eyes swept the room, lingering on Sebastian for a fraction of a second too long. "One way or another."

Alexander''s Chambers, Evening

Sebastian found Alexander standing at the window, looking out over the Thames. The setting sun painted the water in shades of blood and gold.

"Alexander," Sebastian began, then stopped, unsure what to say. *I''m sorry* seemed inadequate. *It''s my fault* seemed impossible to utter.

"Did you know?" Alexander asked without turning. "About Grey being taken to the Tower?"

"No," Sebastian said, and it was the truth. "I didn''t."

Alexander turned then, his face weary. "Someone is moving against me, Sebastian. Someone who knew about the missing document. Someone who wanted Grey silenced."

Sebastian''s throat tightened. "Who would do such a thing?"

"Someone who benefits from discrediting me. Someone who wants the reforms stopped." Alexander''s eyes searched his face. "Mother came to see me earlier. She''s... concerned. She thinks Richard may be behind this."

*Mother.* The word echoed in Sebastian''s mind. *Sometimes the most effective actions are the quietest.*

"Richard has always been ambitious," Sebastian managed to say.

"Ambitious enough to kill?" Alexander shook his head. "I don''t know. But someone did. And now I''m trapped here, under suspicion, while Richard plays investigator."

He moved away from the window, pacing the room with restless energy. "The commission will call witnesses. They''ll ask about the reforms, about my meetings with Grey, about our disagreements with the conservative lords." He stopped, facing Sebastian. "They may call you."

Sebastian''s heart hammered against his ribs. "What would I say?"

"The truth," Alexander said simply. "Whatever you know. Whatever you''ve seen or heard." He stepped closer, his expression earnest. "I need you, Sebastian. Now more than ever. I need to know I can trust you."

The words were a knife twisting in Sebastian''s chest. He looked into his brother''s eyes—the same eyes that had watched over him through childhood illnesses, that had lit up with pride at his accomplishments, that had held nothing but trust and affection for twenty-five years.

*I need to know I can trust you.*

Sebastian opened his mouth. The confession hovered on his tongue—*I took the document, I burned it, this is all my fault*—but fear choked it back. Fear of Alexander''s reaction. Fear of what it would do to their relationship. Fear of the consequences, for himself, for their mother, for the family.

"I would never betray you," he said instead, the words true in spirit if not in letter.

Alexander studied his face for a long moment. Then he nodded, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. "I know," he said softly. "I know."

But as Sebastian left the room, the ghost of those unspoken words followed him: *Do you? Do you really?*

The Commission''s Announcement

The next morning, the royal herald read the proclamation in every square and courtyard of London:

*"By order of His Majesty King Henry VIII, a special commission is hereby established to investigate the death of Thomas Grey, Lord Chief Justice. All persons with knowledge pertaining to this matter are commanded to present themselves before the commission. His Royal Highness Crown Prince Alexander is to remain at Westminster Palace until the investigation is concluded. The commission will be presided over by His Royal Highness Prince Richard, with members appointed from the Privy Council and the House of Lords."*

The words hung in the air, formal and final. A crown prince under investigation. A kingdom holding its breath. A brother carrying a secret that could destroy everything.

Sebastian stood in the crowd, listening as the herald''s voice echoed off the stone walls. Around him, people whispered, speculated, cast glances at the palace where Alexander waited, trapped by suspicion and protocol.

*What have I done?* The question echoed in his mind, but now it had a new, more terrible answer: *I have made my brother a suspect in a murder. I have handed our enemies a weapon. I have become the thing I never wanted to be.*

He looked up at the palace windows, wondering if Alexander was looking out, wondering what he was thinking. Wondering if, somewhere deep down, he suspected the truth.

The herald finished his proclamation. The crowd began to disperse, but Sebastian remained, rooted to the spot by the weight of his guilt and the terrifying knowledge that this was only the beginning.

The flames had consumed the document, but the ashes were still settling. And in those ashes, Sebastian feared, lay the remains of his brother''s trust, his own honor, and perhaps the future of the kingdom itself.