Lorenzo used a different entrance when he returned to the castle. Keen to avoid his brothers – at least for now – he went to a distant wing instead of his own.

When he’d officially moved into the Masillian Royal Castle, he’d updated and renovated it extensively. To help pay for the upgrades, he’d turned one wing into an upscale conference center and event venue, and kept two wings for himself and for visits from his large family; eight brothers and sisters, their loves, and their parents did take up some room, after all. It was the fourth and final wing that was his pride and joy.

A recovery center for returning soldiers.

Though he was now able to manage his PTSD – post-traumatic stress disorder – he’d been even worse several years ago when he’d returned from his last mission. Then, after his heart had been torn apart by Lily’s rejection, he’d sunk into a deep depression once more.

Eventually, he’d accepted that depression wasn’t something that went away; it was something you managed on a daily basis. With that realization, he’d finally begun to live life again, and he wanted to help other returning soldiers do the same.

Thus, the Masillian Advanced Recovery Centre, or MARC, was born.

Still in his running shorts, Lorenzo entered the MARC and waved to the staff he passed. He was a regular visitor and they knew better than to follow royal protocol and bow or curtsy to him.

He wasn’t a royal here; he was a former soldier.

He grabbed one of the MARC t-shirts the staff typically wore and pulled it on; though the medical staff were used to bare-chested men, the rest of the staff were not.

He wound through the halls, greeting former soldiers as they made their way to the dining hall for breakfast. Some with prosthetic legs or arms, or both, others in wheelchairs, some with whole bodies but bruised minds. Not everyone, however, made it to the dining hall. Some were too injured or too depressed to make the trip and were served in their room.

Hector Perez was one of them.

He made it to Perez’s room and knocked, then entered without waiting for a response.

Hector rarely responded.

The rooms were plush – it was a royal castle, after all – but even the gilded molding on the walls and the classy antique furniture couldn’t hide the despair which hung heavy in the room.

Hector was laying on the bed, his prosthetic legs lying on the floor, his eyes fixed on the streaming sunlight filtering through cracks in the thick curtains. He’d hurt, then eventually lost, both his legs below the knees due to the explosion that had killed the rest of their team. He’d recovered physically, but still struggled emotionally.

He’d also never forgiven Lorenzo for saving him.

As Lorenzo closed the door, he spotted the tray of uneaten food and untaken meds near the bed. “Trying to starve yourself again, I see.”

Perez didn’t respond, didn’t even move a muscle.

Lorenzo toyed with something in his pocket, then pulled it out. “I brought you something.” He tossed the pink seashell as he walked towards the bed, and it landed softly on Hector’s bare chest.

At that, Hector turned his head and blinked at the small piece of beauty before his long, capable fingers picked it up. His voice was hoarse and unused when he spoke. “What the fuck? What’d you bring me this for?”

Lorenzo took a seat on the bed and angled to face him. “I didn’t. If you can get your head out of your ass for a minute, I’ll tell you who did.” Hector’s eyes flashed and Lorenzo wanted to cheer in triumph. Any emotion from him, even an angry one, was progress. “My daughter found it.”

Hector’s eyes popped wide. “What the fuck, Low?”

To keep Lorenzo’s identity a secret on transmissions, he’d been referred to as Captain or Low, a teasing nickname that referred to both his name and the fact that he was low on the royal succession list. He’d fucking loved it, since it made him feel part of the team. Even now, all the soldiers at MARC called him Low, Captain, or a combination of the two.

“What the fuck is right. Jesus, shit, Perez.” He told him what had happened on the beach that morning. “I’ve got a daughter, man. I cannot fucking believe it. I cannot fucking believe Lily didn’t tell me about her.”

Hector shifted up on the bed to sitting – more progress – and continued to finger the shell. “Why do you think she didn’t?”

Lorenzo shook his head, though he knew why. “I was fucked up when I got back, and that’s when I met her.”

“You’re still fucked up.”

“Yes, but not as fucked up as I was then. I was pulling myself out of that shit when I met her, fell in love. Then she left me high and dry without an explanation and it brought me back down again.”

He could see Hector’s eyes working, his fingers still caressing the shell. Hector’s voice was subdued and quiet. “You worried you’ll go down again?”

Lorenzo’s jaw clenched. “No fucking way.”

Hector blinked at his fervent words. Once Lorenzo had pulled himself up from the depths of despair and hopelessness, once he’d finally stopped trying to fight the sadness and started living with the sadness, he’d made a vow never to succumb to that soul-numbing anguish again. He vowed that, if he felt that day was coming again, he would get help. And he had.

“Even if I didn’t have a kid now, there’s no fucking way I’m messing up my life again.”

“You still have nightmares?”

Lorenzo nodded. “Yeah. Had a rough one last night, woke up screaming. Lucky me, my brothers came down to visit last night and heard me. Now, they really won’t leave me alone, which is going to be tough with everything that’s going on right now.”

“Is it normal to still have nightmares? It’s been years.”

“It has been years, Perez, but what we went through doesn’t disappear. It takes time and a lot of fucking therapy. But it’s a lot fucking better now, and a lot more manageable, at least for me.”

Hector nodded; Lorenzo knew he still struggled with all of it, which was why he was currently at the MARC, even years after the incident. “What are you going to do?”

“See Lily and Liliana tonight, find out why she kept this from me, and get to know my daughter.”

“You tell your family yet?”

Lorenzo shook his head and Hector’s head jerked. “You told me before your family? Are you nuts?”

Lorenzo grinned. “No. Not today anyway.” His grin dimmed. “You get me, Hector. They don’t.”

“Some of your brothers served, too. They’d understand.”

Lorenzo gave him an even look. “There are other soldiers here, too. They understand what you’re going through, and would help if you’d let them.”

Hector’s lips tightened and his hand fisted around the shell. “Low,” he warned.

Lorenzo put his hands up and dipped his head down. “You know I’m not going to stop pushing you, but I’ll leave you alone. Or, I will if you eat something and take your goddamn meds.”

Hector gave the tray nearby a furtive glance, then turned his eyes on Lorenzo’s unyielding frame. Hector sighed, then leaned over and pulled the rolling tray closer with one hand. Lorenzo noticed his other hand tucking the shell underneath his thigh.

Hector tossed back the meds and washed them down with orange juice, before he removed the plastic food cover and began picking at his food.

“You have to actually eat something, not just shove it around your plate.”

Hector rolled his eyes, but speared a strawberry with his fork. “Is that an order, Captain?”

“If I thought you’d listen to my orders, I’d suggest something else.”

Hector’s fork paused mid-way to his mouth.

“But I won’t, so keep eating.”

Hector nodded. “When are you going to tell your family?” He shoved the fork in his mouth.

“Tomorrow. I need to convince Lily that they need to move into the castle first. Then, I’ll tell them.”

Hector finished chewing slowly, his brows drawn. “What about the king?”

Lorenzo’s father, King Gabriel, had recently suffered from a mild heart attack. It had come just days before Alex’s wedding, and had been a terrible shock. He’d never forget the way his father looked in a hospital bed. His parents probably had the same memories in reverse; Lorenzo had been bedridden when he’d returned from the mission. He thought of how he’d feel if his little Lily were in a hospital bed…his gut clenched and his heart ached. Best not to think about things like that.

Though his father was recovering and Alex had taken over his duties as Acting King, Lorenzo didn’t want the news to trigger another attack. Since his parents were currently fawning over their first granddaughter – or who they thought of as their first grandchild, his sister Arianna’s daughter – he didn’t think they’d mind an older grandchild.

“I think they’ll love my girl. I think it’s more the press I need to deal with. It’ll be easier to manage that once they’re living in the castle. There’ll be fewer eyes on them anyway.” He watched Hector continue to eat for a minute. Then, satisfied that Hector would likely finish at least part of his meal, he stood.

“You going to PT today?” he asked, referring to physical therapy that Hector usually skipped.

Hector’s lips thinned in irritation and he shook his head.

“If you go, I’ll stop by in the morning and tell you how things went.”

“That’s blackmail.”

“That’s motivation.”

“Whatever. I don’t need to know what happens.” The disappointment on Hector’s face told Lorenzo a different story.

“You’re right.”

Hector’s eyes locked with his.

“You don’t need to know. You want to know.”

Hector scoffed and reached for his orange juice. “No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do. You’re gonna be wondering all day about what my family says.”

“I won’t.”

“You will.”

“Jesus. What are you, twelve? I won’t.”

Lorenzo grinned. “Fine, you won’t. But I’ll check in with your physical therapist just in case.”

His grin dimmed as he leaned over Hector. He wrapped a hand behind his neck and forced Hector’s eyes to his. “You can do this, man. I know you can.”

Hector let out a shuddered breath. “There’s no fucking point, Low, and you know it.”

As the sharp flash of anger swept through him, Lorenzo’s hand tightened on Hector. “I’ll tell you what I know. I didn’t want to get out of that damn jungle.”

Hector blinked.

“Yeah, learned that in therapy. Didn’t think about it when it all happened, but at one point I wished I’d died in that jungle. Thought I was the last in our unit. Knowing that I’d get shit for being the prince who made it back, when none of the other soldiers did. Knowing everyone’s fucking death was on my goddamn shoulders, and it still is. But then I saw you were alive and you needed help. I had to help you.”

Hector sucked in a breath.

“Yeah, man. I see you’re getting it. You don’t stop living with this shit. You just learn to fucking manage it. And I’ll tell you something else. If I had died in that jungle, I never would have met Lily, and we never would have made a daughter. I never thought about how it’d feel to be a father and, even though I’ve only known about my girl for a couple hours, it’s changed me. This feeling…I can’t explain it except to say that it has changed everything. Everything. If I’d died, I never would have known this feeling. I would have died. Not. Fucking. Knowing.” A different kind of anger, this time at Lily, swept through him, but he tamped it down. He’d confront Lily later.

Hector’s voice was shaky, his fists clutched tight in the bedsheets, his body tense. “Low.”

“You don’t have to say anything. Not yet. Just accept the fact that I’m right and do what I tell you.”

Hector shook his head. “You always were a bossy asshole.”

Pleased to see some of the fear in Hector’s face replaced by irritation, Lorenzo gave Hector’s neck another squeeze and let go. “I was a bossy captain.”

“Same difference.”

Lorenzo smiled, then relaxed his face. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Perez.”

Brows drawn and lips pursed again, Hector just nodded.

He’d go to PT, Lorenzo was sure of it. Hector had finished PT once he’d received the prosthetics, but depression had kept him bedridden so much that the doctor had recommended he complete it again. Once Perez got stronger physically, Lorenzo would focus on getting him stronger emotionally.

Therapy had helped Lorenzo tremendously. It hadn’t been easy. He’d been terrified, not just of the task of digging out the shit that lived in him, but he’d had to be extra cautious so the press wouldn’t find out.

Thinking of the press, Lorenzo juggled his priorities for the day as he walked out of Hector’s room, and out of the MARC. He walked deeper into the castle, then ducked into a secret passageway, accessible only to the royal family and its designees by thumbprint or handprint scanners. Just like the Vallerian Royal Palace, this lesser royal holding sported a series of secret hallways that ran the length the castle and went to each wing.

He exited onto a hallway in his wing and ran towards his room, ignoring the call of his name down the hall.

His family would have to wait. He needed time to figure things out. Needed time to plan for the day – and night – ahead. Time to plan what to say to Lily, to his family, and to the press. Not to mention what he was going to say to his little girl.

How did you tell a little girl you were her father? And what if she didn’t want him for a father? Lily certainly hadn’t, as she hadn’t bothered to tell him about their child.

Take a deep breath, Lorenzo, his therapist had told him when he felt overwhelmed. You know your triggers, you know your temper. You see one coming, take a deep breath.

Once inside his room, and once again under the chilling spray of the shower, he closed his eyes and breathed deep.

Then he did it again.

After ten minutes of deep breathing, he got out of the shower to face the day.