After the postponement of the hearing… things did not calm down— they began moving in a far more dangerous direction.
In the investigation department— the journalist's phone lay on the table. A small device… but it had now become the key to something much larger.
The investigator sat in front of the screen, scrolling through data, messages, and call logs… until he stopped.
"I found it."
The others leaned in.
A financial transfer. A large sum. Its date… just hours before the image was published.
"Where did it come from?"
They traced the source.
A company. A normal name… nothing suspicious.
But—
"A fake company."
Silence filled the room.
The file was opened.
No real activity. No clear record. Just a front.
But the transfer… was real.
"So that means—"
"He wasn't alone."
The sentence was not surprising.
But it… confirmed the worst.
---
In the Kingdom of Dawn—
things did not take long to escalate.
An official diplomatic note was sent.
Formal language… but clear.
"We reject what has been circulated…"
"We consider it a direct insult…"
"And we demand a transparent investigation and identification of responsibility…"
The message was delivered.
And the response— was not simple.
---
In John's palace…
the meeting was closed.
Tension was visible.
"This is an official escalation." one advisor said.
"If we don't handle it carefully… it could turn into a crisis between the two kingdoms."
King Nilover remained silent.
Listening.
Thinking.
Then said calmly:
"We will cooperate."
He paused.
"…but on our terms."
Eyes met.
Everyone understood.
He would not reject the investigation— but also… would not allow the palace to appear involved.
"We want results." he added.
"But we don't want chaos."
---
Elsewhere…
John was alone.
No meetings.
No noise.
Only— silence.
He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor.
Everything… was piling up.
His father.
Politics.
Pressure.
Murad.
He breathed slowly.
Then said to himself in a low voice:
"…This will not end well."
He raised his head.
And at that moment— he made his decision.
Not because he wanted to.
But because… he believed he had to.
"I have to end this."
The words came out with difficulty.
But they were clear.
---
Minutes later— he went out to Murad.
Murad… was not alone.
With—
Aiden.
In his palace.
Quietly.
Away from the media.
John stopped.
The thought was not entirely logical… but it was enough.
Enough to convince himself.
Enough to escape.
He let out a short laugh… without joy.
"Good."
He said it.
But his voice… was not.
"This way… it will be easier."
He took his jacket.
Then left.
Not toward his palace.
But—
away.
---
After Aiden left the palace… Murad was sitting.
Calm.
But not at peace.
In front of him— a file.
The fake company.
The transfer.
Everything.
He looked at the details again.
Then whispered:
"So… it was not a coincidence."
He lifted his eyes.
And inside him— something began to change.
He was no longer just searching for an answer.
But— for the truth.
Whatever it was.
But what he did not know… was that at the same moment—
someone important in his life… was choosing—
to leave.
---
At first… no one noticed.
At the university, everything continued as usual— lectures, voices, scattered laughter… but one seat remained empty.
John's seat.
On the first day, it was not strange.
"Maybe he has duties at the palace."
On the second day… the looks began to repeat.
"He still hasn't come?"
On the third day— it was no longer normal absence.
But… disappearance.
---
In John's royal palace…
the silence was not normal.
Guards at their posts.
Hallways clean as always.
Everything as it should be—
except one thing.
John… was not there.
"His Highness left yesterday morning." one guard said when asked.
"Where to?"
Silence.
Because… there was no answer.
---
Elsewhere… in Murad's palace.
No one told him.
No one called.
But—
he felt it.
He was standing by the window as usual… but this time, he was not waiting for a message.
He was waiting for something he could not name.
He turned toward his phone.
Nothing.
He opened the chat.
Last message… was not from him.
He pressed the screen for a moment… then closed it.
"No… this is not delay."
He said quietly.
"This is a decision."
Another day passed.
Then another.
And no trace.
---
On political news… the case escalated.
Investigation ongoing.
The journalist in custody.
The financial transfer became evidence.
But behind the scenes— one question began to be asked in a low voice:
"Where is Prince John?"
In a closed meeting inside the palace… one advisor stood before King Nilover:
"His Highness has not attended any meeting for two days… and no official movement has been recorded."
The silence that followed… was not simple.
The King slowly raised his eyes.
"Is this… an disappearance?"
No one dared answer directly.
But the truth was clear.
John— had not only disappeared from people… but from his role.
---
That night… Murad did not sleep.
He sat on the edge of the bed, phone in hand.
This time… he did not wait.
He typed:
"Where are you?"
He paused.
Then sent it.
One minute passed.
Two.
An hour.
No reply.
Murad slowly closed his phone… then raised his head.
That look— was not anger.
Nor sadness.
But something more dangerous.
It was… realization.
"He ran away."
He said it quietly.
But this time— his voice carried no blame.
Only the beginning of something else.
Something colder.
---
Somewhere unknown…
John sat alone.
No palace.
No guards.
No titles.
Only him… and the decision he had made.
The phone in front of him.
The screen lit.
One message visible:
"Where are you?"
He stared at it for a long time… then—
turned off the screen.
---
In Murad's palace…
the night did not move.
Everything remained the same— except time… which had become heavier.
Murad sat on the edge of the bed, phone in hand.
The screen still lit.
The message he sent…
"Where are you?"
He no longer waited much.
He just… looked.
As if he knew what was coming—
would not be normal.
In another place… John was still looking at the same screen.
His breathing slow.
His eyes tired… but no longer hesitant.
He wrote.
Paused for a second.
Then… sent.
In Murad's palace— the phone vibrated.
A soft sound… but it broke all silence.
Murad froze.
He did not open it immediately.
He just… looked at it.
Then, slowly—
opened the message.
"It's all over."
There were no other words.
No explanation.
No justification.
Not even a name.
Just… an ending.
Written… as if it meant nothing.
For a second— he did not understand.
Not because the meaning was unclear… but because it was too clear.
He blinked once.
Then again.
As if his mind was trying to rearrange the sentence… to find a mistake in it.
But there was none.
He pressed the screen.
Read it again.
"It's all over."
His fingers moved slowly… he typed:
"What do you mean?"
He paused.
Looked at it.
Then… did not send it.
He deleted it.
Typed again:
"John?"
Paused.
Then… deleted it.
The phone stayed in his hand… but his hand began to shake.
Lightly at first.
Then more.
"No…"
He said softly.
"Not like this."
He stood up suddenly.
His steps unsteady.
He walked toward the window— then stopped.
He was not seeing anything.
Everything outside the glass… had become too far away.
He looked back at the phone.
Typed:
"Is this because of what happened?"
Sent it.
On the other side… John read the message.
But— did not reply.
A minute passed.
Then two.
Then— the "seen" mark appeared.
And nothing came after it.
In Murad's palace— his breath stopped for a second.
He stared at the screen.
Waited.
Waited more.
But silence… was the answer.
And at that moment—
something inside him… collapsed.
He sat slowly on the floor.
The phone fell from his hand… without him noticing.
There was no scream.
No immediate tears.
Only— emptiness.
As if everything had been pulled out of him at once.
Then… the first broken breath came.
Unsteady.
A second.
Heavier.
He raised his hand to his face… but it would not stay still.
It trembled.
Then— the tears fell.
Silently.
"…Even… without a reason…?"
He spoke in a broken voice.
Weak.
"…Even… without telling me why…?"
His body leaned forward… as if he could no longer hold himself up.
His hands touched the ground.
His head lowered.
"I would have stayed…"
He whispered.
"Whatever it was…"
Silence.
Then a short laugh escaped him… but it carried nothing.
"Even if he chose to leave…"
He stopped.
His voice disappeared for a moment.
Then returned… weaker.
"…I would have understood."
But— he was not given the chance to understand.
---
And elsewhere… inside an office where the king had managed to reach John.
John stood calmly in an unnatural way.
"I need time."
He said directly.
The king looked at him.
"Time… for what?"
Short silence.
Then John said:
"Alone."
The king's gaze deepened.
"Is this related to what is happening?"
John did not answer immediately.
He only said:
"Please… don't let anyone look for me."
The words filled the room with silence.
"John—"
"Please."
He said it softer this time.
But firmer.
The king did not respond immediately.
He just… looked at him for a long time.
Then said:
"…As you wish."
John nodded.
Then turned.
And left.
His steps were steady.
But inside him— they were not.
---
And in Murad's palace…
he was still on the floor.
Not moving.
Not calling anyone.
Not contacting anyone.
Just there… in the same place… where everything ended with one sentence.
---
The first days after John's disappearance were not "sadness" in the usual sense… they were like a sudden interruption of something essential in life.
In Murad's palace…
there was no longer a clear schedule for the day.
University stopped existing in his routine.
Meetings were postponed or shortened without real reason.
Even food… became just a habit done in silence.
Murad was not angry.
He was more dangerous than that.
He was unnaturally calm.
On the first day… he left his room only twice.
The second time, he stood by the window for a long time without moving.
He was not really looking outside… but at one repeating thought:
"It's all over."
John's words were not a sentence.
They were a judgment.
On the second day… one guard tried to speak to him.
"Your Highness, there is a meeting—"
"Postpone it."
The sentence ended before it finished.
He did not raise his voice.
Did not show emotion.
But the door was quietly closed after he returned to his room.
At night… he sat on the floor.
This time the phone was not in his hand.
He was just… silent.
Then low words came:
"If you were going to end like this… why did you start at all?"
He was not waiting for an answer.
Because he knew… none would come.
On the third day… exhaustion began to show on his face.
Not only physical… but internal.
His gaze became longer.
His reactions slower.
As if part of him had stopped responding to the world.
That night… the royal attendant tried to bring food.
"Your Highness, you must—"
"Leave it."
This time his tone was different.
Less calm.
More empty.
On the fourth day… he barely left the room.
He sat in front of the table for hours… with nothing in front of him.
Once, he opened his chat with John.
Read the messages.
Then closed the phone.
He did not delete them.
Did not reply.
Just… left them as they were.
And by the end of the week… silence was no longer a state.
But a way of life.
Even the palace noticed:
"The prince is not as he was."
But no one dared say more.
---
And on the seventh morning… something changed.
A car entered the palace without prior announcement.
No official convoy.
No clear protocol.
Just two people requested entry:
Aiden Harrow and Kai Laurent.
In the reception hall… Murad was sitting.
He did not move much when they entered.
He only looked at them.
A long gaze… empty of welcome or rejection.
Aiden was the first to speak, calmly:
"I heard you haven't left your room for days."
Murad did not respond immediately.
Then said in a low voice:
"And what if I haven't?"
Kai stood at a respectful distance.
He did not intervene directly. He was observing only.
Understanding before speaking.
Aiden sat without excessive permission, as if trying to break the stillness rather than impose himself:
"Isolation… is not always the solution."
Murad gave a faint smile… but it did not reach his eyes.
"Nor is staying."
A short silence.
Then Murad added:
"You came to tell me to forget?"
Aiden did not answer directly.
Kai spoke finally:
"No."
His voice was slightly colder.
"We came to understand where you are now… before you make a wrong decision."
Murad looked at him.
Then said:
"I know where I am."
He paused.
"…In a place where no one is left."
A moment of silence.
No quick response.
Because the sentence was too true.
But Aiden leaned slightly forward:
"This is not a permanent place."
Murad did not raise his gaze.
"It is the only one left."
Kai exchanged a look with Aiden.
Then said calmly:
"If that is true… then you don't need someone to fill the void."
He paused.
"…but someone to keep you from drowning in it."
Murad did not respond.
But for the first time in a week… he did not ask them to leave immediately.
Aiden noticed that.
He smiled faintly:
"If you want… we can just sit here."
"No advice."
"No pressure."
"Just presence."
Kai nodded:
"Just presence."
Murad looked at them for a long time.
Then… leaned back slightly in his chair.
It was not acceptance.
Nor rejection.
It was something else… closer to exhaustion.