Breakfast that morning was a stiff affair. Beakley herded the boys into the dining room, seating the 3 along the left side of the table, they were barely dressed, wearing clean shirts, but nothing overly fancy. Donald walked in, and sat down at a chair on Huey's left, near the head of the table, similarly dressed. Gladstone also came in, and sat on the right side of the table, across properly dressed in fine clothes. Donald glanced up, and groaned, but didn't say anything.

"Where's the food?" Dewey asked.

"We're waiting on your Uncle," Beakley informed him.

"Why do we have to wait for him?"

But then Scrooge came in, fully dressed… including his crown, and sat down at the head of the table between Donald and Gladstone. Donald looked at him for a few seconds before standing up and moving to the other end of the table.

"You're breakfast will be out shortly," Beakley informed him, heading back to the kitchen, Webby peeked in as Beakley passed through the door.

"Good morning Webby!" Dewey greeted cheerfully.

"Good morning Webby," Louie and Huey echoed their brother, turning towards the door.

"Oh, um, Good Morning… Good morning You're Majesty… your Highnesses,"

"Come along Webby," Beakley said entering with the food, and Webby disappeared behind a handful of other servants carrying food.

Breakfast wasn't a very long affair either.

"Can I be excused," Dewey asked after wolfing down his breakfast, already standing up, and half out the door.

"Where are you going?" Donald asked, but he was already gone.

Louie took a few more bites, "I'll be going too,"

Huey continued to eat, eyeing his Uncle's carefully.

None of them said anything, but you could cut the tension with a knife.

Huey figured that there was something between them, something that he wasn't being told, which was frustrating, as he hated not knowing things. He had never been particularly interested in politics, and yet, here he was.

"I'm going," Donald announced, leaving the table.

"Hey Double-D, where you going?" Gladstone asked.

Donald grumbled an unintelligible answer. Gladstone stood up and went to go follow him, "Wait up!"

Huey curiously watched them leave.

"I'll be in my study," Scrooge announced, getting up.

Scrooge never quite made it to his study, passing by the ballroom, and catching sight of Louie lounging in a chair, idly sipping on some juice while watching performers rehearsing.

"What are you doing?" Scrooge asked as Louie ate some grapes from a bowl.

"Enjoying the perks?" Louie asked, barely acknowledging him.
"What perks? Scrooge asked, "Where did you even get that?"

"The perks of being a royal."

"You're just sitting here on the couch drinking juice." Scrooge pointed out, clearly confused

"I'm also watching the performers rehearse."

"You can't just sit here all day!"

"Why not?" Louie asked, finally turning towards Scrooge, "We're royalty?"

"I'm the king." Scrooge stressed, pointing at himself for emphasis, "You are a prince and not even that. You've spent your life on a boat, there's more to being a prince than being pampered."

"Like what?" Louie asked doubtfully.

Scrooge said proudly, "A prince is like a king in training."
"Uh…" Louie stared at him in confusion for a moment, before turning back to the rehearsal, "Oh, is that what this is about? You do realize I'm the youngest, right? I have two older brothers. The chances of me being King ever is like, 0."

"Just because you aren't the heir doesn't mean you don't have a duty. If you aren't set to inherit the crown, you are still expected to act as a royal representative and assist in royal duties, the future king's number two, his right hand." Scrooge informed him, looking up nostalgically, and then back down at Louie with a frown.

"His number three, and his left hand," Louie corrected, and then gave an amused smirk, "I'm actually left-handed…."

Scrooge rolled his eyes, "My point still stands, you have important things you should be learning and doing."

"Like what?" Louie asked doubtfully.

Scrooge considered this for a moment, "In general the role of a Prince or Princess is to act as a diplomat, fostering relationships between us and other kingdoms."
"And how do I do that?" Louie asked, raising an eyebrow.

Scrooge sighed, "Off the couch, you're with me today."

"Are you sure you don't want Huey? You know, the actual heir?" Louie asked, suspiciously.
"I'm sure," Scrooge confirmed, practically dragging Louie out of the room.

"...So what are we doing?" Louie asked.

"I've got a meeting with my advisors soon"

"Sounds like fun…" Louie groaned

"Pff, if only," Scrooge muttered under his breath.

"So you admit this is going to be suffering?" Louie asked, suspiciously.

Dewey stood outside the kitchen doors, peering in, watching a handful of cooks and maids enter and exit. After a moment, when no one seemed to enter or exit. Dewey approached the door, as it swung into his face.

"Webby?"

"Dewey?"

"I was looking for you?"

"For me?" Webby asked, looking surprised.
"I wanted to ask you some stuff," Dewey asked

"Really, what?" Webby asked entering the hallway.

"What do you know about my mom?" Dewey asked carefully.

"Your mom?" Webby whispered.

"Yeah, my mom… Princess Della?" Dewey asked, uncertainty overtaking his voice as he said her name.

"Shh," Webby's eyes scanned the empty hallways, "Follow me."

Webby kicked at a stone in the hall walls which moved to reveal a crawlspace, "This way."

Dewey looked around curiously, but followed behind Webby, until they reached a passageway, Webby dashed through the passageway, and down a spiral staircase until she reached a small room.

"What do you know about your mom?" Webby asked, a bit harshly.

"Um, Uncle Donald said she was gone… all we have is this locket." Dewey explained, pulling out a small locket, and holding it out.

Webby snatched to locket from his hand and opened it to reveal two small portraits. One of Princess Hortense and her Husband Duke Quackmore, and the other of Prince Donald and Princess Della as teenagers.

"That's what she looked like?" Webby murmured fascinated.

"You're saying there aren't any portraits around? Isn't my mom supposed to be a Princess? You know, if Uncle Donald is a prince, that's how it works, right?" Dewey asked confused.

"If there are any portraits of Princess Della they're all hidden away… her name is forbidden here. Once someone came looking to deliver a message to her from another kingdom… and Scrooge banished him from the castle." Webby explained

"But surely you know something, you lived here?"

"Why don't you just ask your Uncle Donald?" Webby asked, "I mean, you're already in the castle, maybe he'll tell you now?"

"You can't get information out of him, he took 8 years for him to even tell us our full names,"

"You had the last name Duck, and it never occurred to that you might be of noble birth?"

"Well…"

"Well what did you hear outside of the castle? It's not like it's restricted out there like it is in here."

"My brothers and I never really attended school… and Uncle Donald avoided history and politics, and it's not like people talk about it, it happened so long ago."

"You don't know anything? Don't you know anything about the royal family?"

"Just that King Scrooge was old, and without heirs, because he never married and his niece and nephew disappeared… I think a lot of people believe they were kidnapped or assassinated... no one ever mentioned anything about triplet princes."

"I suppose that wasn't public knowledge?" Webby murmured thoughtfully.

"Then how did you know?"

"Oh, well, it is common knowledge here, at least among the older staff, although they don't talk about it much... Princess Della was here for a visit, and she brought her three eggs with her, and then before people had time to properly welcome her home, she disappeared with her eggs and her brother."

"Uncle Donald ran away with us?" Dewey asked.

"Well, no one knew, until... until now," Webby said looking straight at Dewey.

"Well, where are we going to find information about her?"

Webby gave an enthusiastic grin, "The archives!"

"The what?"

"The official history of the kingdom and the royal family, all official records, birth and death, and coronations, and marriages, and treaties…."

Webby let out an excited sigh.

"Have you ever been?"

Webby gave a sheepish smile, "It's only supposed to be accessible by members of the royal family…. I've never managed to sneak in," Webby stood up a bit straighter, "But you… you're a member of Clan McDuck,"

"What happened," Gladstone asked looking straight at Donald.

"What do you mean?" Donald snapped irritably.

"You know what I mean," Gladstone said.

"... She left, I left with the boys," Donald said, 'That's all there is to it,"

"Don't give me that," Gladstone said.

"What's it matter to you?"

"I've been so worried about you." Gladstone insisted.

"What you thought we were dead,"
"Of course not… but with your…. curse,"

Donald bristled, but didn't say anything.

Gladstone continued, "I at least figured you'd stay together? I thought I kind of understood why you left… but… where is she?"
"She left," Donald repeated angrily, before sighing, "Look, I don't know why exactly she left, or where she is now… but… she did, and she asked me to look out for the boys… so I did, and now we're back, and everything's a mess,"

"She wanted you to take the boys," Gladstone asked quietly, "away from him,"

"Yeah…" Donald replied with a murmur.

"You've kept them away a long time,"

"Not long enough," Donald replied.

Gladstone sighed, "If they're anything like you and Della, they'll be fine, and besides, you won't let anything happen to them, you always looked out for Fethry and Me,"

"But you aren't in line… you never had as much attention on you as Della and I did,"

Gladstone shrugged, "This family has never been simple,"