Page 56 of Matched with the Grumpy Secret Prince

It’s fast. Sharp. Decisive. And it lands.

Pain explodes across my jaw, and I stumble back, my duffel bag dropping from my grip. The guards tense, and the driver gasps, but I barely process any of it because my head is spinning, my brother just hit me, and?—

I deserve it, don’t I?

“You son of a—” Isaac’s voice is rough, raw, full of something deeper than just anger.

I don’t move. I don’t react. I stand there, jaw throbbing, watching him through the haze of my guilt.

“You don’t answer calls,” he spits. “You don’t reply to messages. You don’t even acknowledge that we exist. And now,nowthat our parents are dying, you suddenly show up?”

My stomach turns. “Isaac?—”

“Don’t.” His voice cracks, just for a second. He shoves a hand through his hair, pacing again like he can’t bear to look at me. “You think you can just walk back in here and pretend you care?”

I do care. I never stopped. But I don’t know how to say that to him. I don’t know if it would even matter.

“I didn’t know,” I say instead, my voice quieter than I intended.

“Because you didn’t care to,” he fires back. “We’ve been trying to reach you for weeks, Graham. But you were too busy hiding in whatever small-town fantasy you built for yourself, pretending this life didn’t exist.”

I flinch.

Because he’s right.

I ignored the calls, choosing to stay hidden. I told myself I was freeing myself from the weight of this family, but in doing so, I left them to carry all of it alone.

And now—now it’s too late to fix it.

Isaac exhales sharply, rubbing his temples before finally looking at me again. His expression is hard, but there’s something else there, too. Something shattered.

“You weren’t here when it happened,” he mutters. “You weren’t here when we got the call when the entire castle—our entire country—held its breath, waiting for news.” His voice turns bitter. “But of course, you showed up now. Now that it’s messy. Now that there’s no avoiding it.”

A lump forms in my throat, thick and suffocating. “Is there… any update?”

His jaw tightens.

I wait.

And then, finally?—

“They’re alive.” His voice is hollow. “But barely.”

I close my eyes for half a second. I should be relieved, but all I feel is heavier.

“They’re being treated in the private ward,” Isaac continues, his voice steadier now. “Away from the press, away from the public. No one outside this castle knows the truth.”

Because if they did, everything would unravel. The monarchy would be vulnerable, and enemies would see an opening.

That’s why Isaac has to take the throne—not just as a placeholder, not just until my father recovers.

For good.

I swallow hard. “When?”

“The coronation is in three days.”

Three days. And just like that, my brother will no longer be just Isaac. He will be King Isaac.

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