Page 58 of Defying the Crown
This morning, I find him at the breakfast table, staring vacantly at an untouched plate of food. His cheekbones jut sharply beneath pale skin, the hollows beneath his eyes dark as bruises. When did he get so thin?
"Harry," I say, sliding into the chair beside him. "You need to eat something."
He blinks slowly, as if waking from a dream. "I'm not hungry."
His royal blue sweater, once fitted, now hangs from his frame. I reach across and push the plate closer, but he just shakes his head.
"I saw the staff removed the television from your chambers," I mention, trying to keep my voice casual.
"I asked them to." He runs a finger around the rim of his untouched coffee mug. "I'm tired of seeing my face everywhere. Tired of the speculation. Tired of seeing the reminder."
Each day, he withdraws further into himself. The few times he's ventured from his rooms, I've caught him checking his phone, that brief flicker of hope followed by crushing disappointment when there's nothing from Daniel.
Last night, I heard him through the wall—crying. Not the quiet, controlled tears of a prince, but the raw, gasping sobs of someone coming apart. I sat outside his door, my own tears falling, feeling helpless.
"Father wants me to issue a formal statement." Harald's voice brings me back to the present. "About my 'indiscretion'."
I reach for his hand, alarmed by how cold his fingers feel. "What did you tell him?"
"Nothing. I just walked out." A ghost of a smile touches his lips, then vanishes. "Probably the first time I've ever done that."
He stands abruptly, chair legs scraping against marble. For a moment, he sways slightly, and I wonder when he last slept properly.
"Council meeting in twenty minutes," he mumbles, though his eyes are unfocused, distant.
I watch him shuffle away, shoulders hunched, each step heavy as if gravity pulls at him with extra force. My brother is disappearing before my eyes, fading like a photograph left too long in sunlight. Something essential is being bleached from him, day by empty day.
I slip away from breakfast to my private sitting room, hand trembling as I dial Ingrid's number. Three rings, four—please answer.
"Hello, Ella." Ingrid's warm voice usually brings comfort, but today I'm too frayed.
"I don't know what to do anymore," I blurt, pacing the length of my room. "It's getting worse. He's not eating, barely sleeping. This morning he could hardly focus on a simple conversation." The words tumble out, my voice pitching higher. "I'm scared, Ingrid. I've never seen him like this, not even after—"
I can't bring myself to say it—after the hospital. After those terrifying weeks when we nearly lost him.
"Has he been responding to your messages?" I ask. "He mentioned you'd reached out."
Ingrid sighs, the sound heavy. "I've called several times, sent texts. He responds with single words, if at all. He's cancelled our last three appointments."
My stomach drops. "He's not seeing you either? I thought—I assumed he was at least talking to you."
"I'm afraid not. From what you're describing, this is deeply concerning, Ella. His pattern of isolation, refusing food, emotional withdrawal..." She pauses, her professional tone faltering slightly. "These are warning signs we can't ignore."
The words I've been afraid to speak crystalize in my throat.
"Do you think... do we need to consider the hospital again?" My voice cracks. "I can't bear the thought, but I'm watching him fade away right in front of me."
"It may come to that if he continues on this path," Ingrid says gently. "Self-neglect at this level can become dangerous quickly. His history means we need to be particularly vigilant."
I sink onto my sofa, a cold dread washing over me. "He would never forgive us."
"This isn't about forgiveness, Ella. It's about keeping him safe until he can find his way back."
I press my fingertips to my temples, fighting back tears. The memory of Harald's face the last time—hollow-eyed, betrayed—as security escorted him to the private psychiatric facility haunts me still. How he'd looked at me like I was a stranger.
"I'll try again today," I whisper. "But I don't know how much longer we can wait."
Erik
