Chapter 116: A Prince Worth Marrying

Tobias returned to the reception room with what he hoped was a reasonably composed expression, although he was still struggling to recover from his embarrassing encounter with Tractor. Thankfully, the royal family had yet to arrive, leaving the Ashcrofts alone in the spacious room. His mother, Eleanor, spotted him almost immediately and lifted a hand, beckoning him toward the sofa where she sat beside his father. Tobias made his way over, carefully avoiding the gaze of the palace servants stationed around the room, and lowered himself onto the empty seat.

Jonathan turned his head and gave his son a long, scrutinizing look, his brows drawing together slightly before he let out a quiet grunt of disapproval, clearly unimpressed by how long Tobias had taken to use the bathroom.

"What took you so long?" Eleanor asked in a low voice, leaning closer to him. "How long does it take to use the bathroom? What were you doing in there, shitting a whole python?"

Tobias nearly choked on his own breath. If only his mother knew that he had spent the time fantasizing about someone’s python, she probably wouldn’t be so quick to tease him. His face warmed with embarrassment, and he shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, wishing his mother would stop talking before she managed to make his situation even worse. If she knew what had actually happened in that bathroom, she probably wouldn’t be asking him such questions so casually.

"It’s not as though I went missing for an entire day," he muttered, adjusting his position on the sofa.

His mother gave him a disapproving look. "You could have been quicker."

"Yes, Mother."

Tobias lowered his gaze, hoping the conversation would end there. The last thing he needed was for either of his parents to question him further. How was he supposed to explain that a trip to the bathroom had somehow resulted in him acquiring the phone number of a seven-foot-tall man covered in tattoos? He could already imagine his mother’s expression if she discovered what had happened, and he had absolutely no intention of finding out whether his father would be more amused or furious.

Fortunately, before Eleanor could continue questioning him, the doors to the reception room opened.

The king and queen entered first, immediately drawing everyone’s attention. The king walked with the commanding presence expected of a monarch, his expression stern and his posture impeccable. Beside him, the queen carried herself with equal dignity, her elegant attire complementing the grace with which she moved. Their arrival prompted the Ashcrofts to rise from their seats, Jonathan straightening his jacket as he prepared to offer the royal couple the respect their positions demanded.

Prince Basil entered behind them, his blonde hair neatly arranged and his appearance as polished as ever. He wore an expression of composed courtesy, greeting the assembled guests with the restrained smile. Prince Darius followed shortly afterward, and the moment Sonia caught sight of him, her attention shifted so completely that everything else in the room seemed to fade into the background.

There he was. Her Prince Darius.

The man she had been waiting to see since learning of his return.

Sonia’s eyes widened slightly, and she instinctively straightened her back. She had seen pictures of Darius before his accident, though how she had managed to get her hands on them was a story of its own, but the man standing before her now seemed even more striking than any photograph could capture. He was broader through the shoulders, his frame carrying a solid, masculine strength that made him appear more imposing than ever. His features were sharp and handsome, his posture confident despite the time he had spent recovering, and there was something about his presence that demanded attention without requiring him to say a single word.

Good heavens.

Sonia had always known that Darius was handsome from those pictures, but seeing him in person made her realize that no photograph could fully capture his appeal. He looked like the sort of man a woman could proudly stand beside, someone whose presence alone could make others envious. More importantly, he was the real crown prince, the man who would one day inherit the throne and wield authority over the entire kingdom, the man far more deserving of being hers.

What could Basil possibly offer in comparison?

Her gaze drifted briefly toward Basil, who stood near the king and queen with his usual polished appearance. He was certainly attractive in his own way, but beside Darius, he seemed to lack something essential. Perhaps it was the difference in their builds, or the contrast between Darius’s imposing presence and Basil’s more delicate appearance. Whatever it was, Sonia could no longer understand why she had ever been expected to consider Basil an acceptable husband when a man like Darius existed.

This is the man I should have been promised to from the beginning.

Her lips pressed together as irritation stirred beneath her admiration. She had spent years preparing herself to become Basil’s wife, only to discover that the man she had been promised to was not even the king and queen’s biological son. Now that the truth had come to light, she could hardly be expected to accept such an arrangement without complaint.

And the more she looked at Darius, the more certain she became that the engagement had been wrong from the very beginning.

Then another thought occurred to her, one that immediately sharpened her irritation.

How had the king and queen failed to recognize their own child?

Sonia glanced at the royal couple, examining them with renewed scrutiny. The queen had blonde hair, just as Basil did, but the resemblance ended there. The queen’s blonde was a particular shade, lighter and warmer in certain places, while Basil’s hair carried a noticeably different tone. It was not the sort of difference that could be overlooked if one paid attention, especially when Darius stood before them as though someone had taken the king’s own features and reproduced them almost perfectly.

The resemblance was undeniable. Darius had the king’s eyes, his facial structure, and the same unmistakable features that made the relationship between them obvious. Both the king and queen had blue eyes, yet Basil’s eyes were green. Even their colouring failed to establish a convincing resemblance beyond the broad similarity of blonde hair.

How did they not notice?

Sonia’s annoyance deepened as she continued examining the royal family. If the king and queen had paid closer attention, they would have recognized that their child had been switched long before the truth came out. How could they have mistaken Basil for their biological son when he looked so little like either of them, while Darius was practically the king’s reflection?

This is their fault.

The thought came with a satisfying sense of justification. If the royal couple had realized sooner that Basil was not their biological son, Sonia would never have been trapped in an engagement to someone who turned out to be an impostor. She would not have spent years preparing to marry Basil, only to have the arrangement become a source of humiliation the moment his true parentage was revealed.

If they had done their duty as parents, she might have been promised to Darius from the beginning. And now, instead of correcting the situation by arranging a marriage between her and the real crown prince, they had summoned her family to the palace for a meeting whose purpose she could only guess at. Her father had been unusually stern that morning, insisting that she behave herself and reminding her that her engagement to Basil remained the only arrangement they had agreed to.

But surely, after everything that had happened, the king and queen could see that the situation needed to change.