A team from the newly formed Royal Assets Office arrived on orders from King Charles III, tasked with auditing everything
the monarchy owned but no longer used. They expected nothing more than decaying barns and outdated equipment.
Instead, they found a locked hangar bearing a lead seal with the royal crest… and one small brass plaque that made every investigator stop breathing:
“Private transport service – authorized use by the Queen Consort.”
There was no record of any such aircraft in royal files.
The seal was not governmental. It was internal. Personal. The kind reserved for someone with enormous power—and something to hide.
When the corroded doors finally groaned open, a wave of cold, stale air rolled out. Inside stood a compact private jet, its body wrapped in dust but its presence unmistakably expensive. Leather seats, dark walnut panels, and the eerie feeling that this plane had carried secrets, not guests.
The real shock, however, was still waiting.