Flint dropped to his knees, his body limp. His disheveled brown hair hung loosely over his face, and his wrinkled shirt clung to him in disarray. He kept his head bowed, his gaze fixed on the floor.
For someone as meticulous as Flint, this deplorable state only fueled William's growing outrage.
William cast him a cold glance. "You should return to your room. We will—"
"I did a terrible thing to Prince Willie," Flint interrupted, his voice hoarse with guilt. "I'm really sorry."
William's jaw clenched. "Just tell me—" his voice was razor-sharp, "what are you, Flint Cooper?"
Flint hesitated before slowly lifting his head, his chest tightening under William's fierce gaze.
"I was attacked," he began, his voice strained. "I tried to rescue His Highness, but I was careless… I let them get me."
His hands trembled as he covered his face.
