A Royal Obligation
Chapter 177: Guilt & Regrets (2)

Chapter 177: Guilt & Regrets (2)

Drystan stood outside Kaelix’s chambers, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned ghostly white. The corridor was silent but for the ragged breaths he forced through his lips, trying to steady himself. He closed his eyes, letting his head fall against the cold, unyielding stone wall, as if the chill might temper the storm raging inside him. But it was no use; the dull murmur of Kaelix’s grief seeped through the door, each sound a fresh wound, a reminder of the devastation that had ripped through their lives.

Through the thick wood, Kaelix’s broken voice called for Eirik, a desperate, fractured sound that pierced straight through Drystan. He could hear Kaelix’s breaths hitch, could imagine his prince hunched over in despair, clutching memories that had been shattered beyond recognition. Every plea Kaelix uttered felt like a blade to Drystan’s heart, twisting deeper with each anguished cry. He hadn’t just failed to protect his prince; he had failed to protect the very man who had entrusted him with his heart.

And all because he’d been too blind to see through the man he thought he’d loved.

Sadiki.

The name sent a shudder of fury and betrayal through Drystan, mingling with the shame that weighed heavily in his gut. Sadiki had been his lover, his confidant, the man he’d shared his nights and whispered his dreams to. He’d believed that Sadiki’s arms were his sanctuary, his safe harbor in a world wrought with danger. Yet, here he stood, outside Kaelix’s chambers, helpless, gutted, and reeling in the aftermath of a betrayal he never could have imagined.

Drystan pressed his forehead harder against the stone wall, as if the pressure might somehow relieve the guilt simmering within him. But it only dredged up memories, dredged up moments he wished he could burn from his mind.

The little signs had been there, hadn’t they? Lingering just beneath the surface, quiet warnings he’d ignored.

He remembered how Sadiki’s silences had become more frequent, the way his laughter had faded, replaced by something guarded, withdrawn.

Drystan had told himself it was nothing, that perhaps Sadiki was merely tired or overwhelmed.

He’d even convinced himself, on more than one occasion, that Sadiki was simply growing restless in their relationship.

But now, every detail felt tainted, every memory laced with bitterness and regret. He remembered those final nights together before they’d parted, nights when he’d held Sadiki close, believing his touch could ease whatever weighed upon his lover’s heart. He’d whispered reassurances, pressed kisses to Sadiki’s brow, never realizing that the man lying beside him was already plotting the betrayal that would destroy everything.

His mind reeled back to one particular night. Sadiki had sat by the window, his eyes fixed on the stars as if they held secrets only he could see. Drystan had approached him then, sensing the tension, the turmoil that radiated from his lover like a quiet storm.

"Are you alright?" Drystan had asked, his voice low, his hand reaching out to rest gently on Sadiki’s shoulder.

Sadiki had turned to him, a faint smile tugging at his lips, a smile that, looking back, felt as hollow as a lie. "I’m fine, Drystan," he’d replied softly, his voice carrying a note of weariness. "Just a bit tired, that’s all. Nothing you need to worry about."

And Drystan, in his foolishness, had believed him. He’d brushed aside the nagging instinct that told him something was wrong, convinced himself that if Sadiki wanted to talk, he would. He had told himself to be patient, to give Sadiki the space he needed, unaware that he was giving the man he loved the freedom to forge the chains that would bind them all to ruin.

The thought sickened him now. How could he have been so blind? How could he have missed the truth that lay hidden in Sadiki’s eyes, the darkness lurking beneath his smiles?

The questions clawed at his mind, each one another thorn of self-recrimination. He swallowed hard, his throat tightening as Kaelix’s broken sobs drifted through the door, each one a painful reminder of his own failure.

At last, unable to bear the sound any longer, Drystan turned and made his way back to his quarters, his footsteps echoing through the empty halls like accusations. When he reached his room, he let himself collapse onto the edge of his bed, his head falling into his hands as the weight of everything crashed down upon him.

The silence pressed in around him, oppressive, suffocating, as memories of Sadiki continued to assault him. He could still picture Sadiki’s face, the way his eyes had sparkled with mischief, the way he’d laughed so easily, as though nothing in the world could ever touch them.

And yet, beneath that laughter, beneath the stolen kisses and whispered promises, there had been something darker, something Drystan had never seen, because he’d been too blinded by love to look deeper.

He squeezed his eyes shut, his fingers digging into his scalp as if he could somehow erase the memories, tear them out of his mind and leave only emptiness behind. But the images persisted, mocking him, taunting him with all the moments he’d missed, all the times he’d looked into Sadiki’s eyes and seen only what he’d wanted to see.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" he whispered, his voice a broken plea that echoed into the silence of the room. His hands dropped to his sides, his gaze falling to the floor as he thought of Eirik, the man who had been like a brother to him, a prince he’d sworn to protect with his life.

He remembered Eirik’s laugh, the way his smile could light up the darkest of rooms, how he had been the heart of their kingdom, loved and cherished by all. And now, Eirik was gone, ripped from their lives in the cruellest of betrayals, and Drystan couldn’t shake the knowledge that he had played a part in it.

If only he’d seen through Sadiki’s lies. If only he’d asked the right questions, pushed harder, refused to let his lover brush aside his concerns with those empty reassurances.

The guilt twisted inside him, gnawing at his insides until he could barely breathe. How could he face Kaelix now, knowing that the grief consuming his prince was a direct result of his own blindness? How could he look into Kaelix’s eyes and offer comfort when he knew, deep down, that he was part of the reason Eirik was gone?

His chest ached, the pain so raw and visceral that it felt as if it might split him apart. He buried his face in his hands again, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs that he refused to let escape. He didn’t deserve the relief of tears, didn’t deserve any form of release for the torment that had become his constant companion.

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.