A Home without a Heart

It's been a week since Theodore moved to the palace. The palace had never felt so empty. King Maxwell sat on the dining table, staring at the untouched meal before him. It had been seven days since he family claimed his heir. Seven days of silence, seven days of rejection. The boy barely spoke to him, barely looked at him, and barely ate anything.

Maxwell had prepared for trantums, resistance, defiance ,maybe even anger. What he hadn't prepared for was the unbearable silence. Theodore did not cry, he did not yell. He simply withdrew, like a child stranded in a place that wasn't home. And it didn't feel like home to him. Despite the royal treatment, the stack of toys, the beautiful decorations in his room, and the love and attention everyone gave him.

"Your Majesty." A sharp voice interrupted Maxwell's thoughts. "The young prince refused to come to dinner again."

Maxwell's gaze tightened. "Did he eat anything at all today?"

"Just a few bite of his breakfast, nothing else." His servant responded.

A wave of frustration ran over Maxwell. He got angry at himself. He may have won the custody battle, but he had lost the boy. Lost the chance of gaining his affection. What was the point of this victory, if Theodore didn't want to be here?

"Where is he now" he asked

"In his room your majesty."

Maxwell nodded. "You can leave. I'll handle it."

Maxwell made his way through the long corridors of the place, towards Theodore's room. He pushed his the door slighty open, just enough to see inside without being noticed. Theodore sat on the edge of his bed, knees pulled towards his chest, his fingers holding on tightly to the stuffed bear he had brought from Elena's home. The room was grand, rich tapestries and everything fit for a prince. And yet the boy looked lost.

"I want to go home." Theodore murmured. "I miss you mummy, I don't like it here."

A sharp pain twisted in Maxwell's heart as he heard this. It wasn't suppose to be like this. This wasn't how he imagined bonding with his son. He had thought bringing Theodore here would mean somethin, that the son would feel a sense of belonging. Instead the place felt like a prison.

For the first time in his life, Maxwell felt powerless. He then stepped inside the room, making his presence known. Theodore shifted without even turning to look at him.

Maxwell moved closer and sat on the edge of the bed, just beside Theodore. Silence stretched between them, heavy and unspoken.

"You don't like it here?" He asked, running his fingers the Theo's curls.

Theodore shook his head to indicate his disapproval.

Maxwell sighed heavily. "You miss your mother?"

"I want to go home." He responded. "She said this is what is best for me. But it doesn't feel so."

Maxwell sighed even harder in frustration. How could he argue with that?

He had fought for Theodore, claimed him as his heir, brought him into a world of power and privilege. But in doing so, he had taken him away from the only home he had ever known. And now, for the first time, he questioned whether he had done the right thing.

Maxwell rubbed a hand over his face, exhaling slowly. He had spent years making decisions that shaped the fate of nations, but none had ever felt as heavy as this moment.

He looked at his son. His heir, sitting there with his small shoulders hunched, his eyes dull with sadness. This wasn't victory. This was failure.

"Theodore," he said after a long pause, "I know this isn't easy for you."

The boy said nothing, just clutched his bear tighter.

Maxwell wanted to say something else, something that would make it better. But what was he supposed to say? That he understood? Because he didn't. He had never been taken from his home. He had never been forced to adapt to a new life overnight. He had no idea what this felt like for Theodore. For the first time in his life, Maxwell didn't have the answer.

After a long silence, he stood up. "Goodnight Theo." His voice was low and careful.

Theodore didn't reply.

Maxwell hesitated at the door, glancing back once more before leaving. As he stepped into the hallway, the weight in his chest only grew heavier. This wasn't working.

And if something didn't change soon… he would lose his son in a way no court ruling could fix. Maybe it was time to consider something he had never once allowed himself to think about.

Compromise.

Maybe it was time to have a deep conversation with Elena.