A Royal Obligation
Chapter 183: Carl’s Frustration

Chapter 183: Carl’s Frustration

The door to Prince Carl’s chamber slammed shut with a thunderous bang. His face was tight with fury, a smoldering rage that hadn’t diminished since his last visit with Eirik. How much more could he do for that stubborn prince? Carl’s patience, if he had any left, was teetering on the edge. He had been lenient, gentler than he’d ever thought he could be, and yet Eirik still had the nerve to resist him, to flinch away as if he were some monster.

Carl paced the room, hands clenched, mind racing with thoughts he couldn’t contain. In his mind, he’d shown Eirik every form of kindness possible, at least by his own standards. He could have been harsher, and sometimes the urge to demand what he wanted without hesitation was almost unbearable. But something in him held back each time, just barely. No more, he decided. Next time, he’d remind Eirik who held the power.

Feeling the weight of his own anger, he called for Amelia, his most loyal attendant. He didn’t need to spell it out; she’d know precisely why he wanted her company. The guard at his door wasted no time in relaying the command, and within moments, Amelia entered, her head bowed low. She could sense the tension in the room, the charged atmosphere thick with Carl’s turbulent emotions.

"My prince, you called for me?" she asked, her tone respectful, laced with the faintest hint of wariness.

Carl’s gaze flickered over her, cold and demanding. "Obviously, I called for you. Now, get on with it."

Amelia barely suppressed a shudder. Carl’s tone was sharper than usual, almost cutting. Yet she knew better than to question him. For weeks now, he’d been summoning her more frequently than ever, each time more insistent, more agitated. She was supposed to feel honored by his attention, wasn’t she? It was a sign of favor, after all. But every time he called, she couldn’t ignore how, in the end, it wasn’t truly her that he wanted. She was only a temporary balm, a placeholder. Because even in his most vulnerable moments, the name he murmured was not hers. It was Eirik.

Carl’s sharp voice cut through her thoughts. "What are you waiting for?" he demanded, his frustration barely concealed.

Amelia took a breath, steadying herself. She approached him, her every movement calculated to avoid triggering his wrath. Just as she was about to begin, a knock echoed through the room, interrupting them.

Carl’s expression darkened instantly, his fury reignited. "Who is it?" he snapped, his eyes flashing with irritation.

The door cracked open, revealing one of the royal guards, who immediately seemed to regret his timing upon seeing Amelia kneeling in front of the prince. The guard’s face turned pale, and he quickly dropped into a low bow, barely meeting Carl’s eyes.

"Apologies, Your Highness. But your father, King Thaddeus, has summoned you," the guard stammered, glancing nervously between Carl and Amelia.

Carl gritted his teeth, muttering under his breath. Of all the times for his father to demand his presence! But he knew better than to ignore the king’s summons. Though Carl was strong-willed, even he understood the weight of his father’s authority.

"Fine. Tell him I’ll be there shortly," Carl said through clenched teeth, waving the guard off.

The guard bowed again, murmured another apology, and backed out, closing the door softly behind him.

Carl’s gaze shifted back to Amelia, who remained kneeling, clearly unsure whether she should stay or go. His jaw tightened in frustration. He let out a low, bitter laugh as he shook his head.

"Even my father seems determined to interfere," he muttered, his voice filled with barely restrained anger. He cast one last frustrated look at Amelia before gesturing toward the door. "Stay here. I’ll deal with you once I’m back."

Amelia, relieved and yet apprehensive, quickly rose, offering a low bow. "As you wish, my prince."

With one last glance, Carl left the room, his expression unreadable.

Prince Carl strode into the grand hall, his footsteps echoing through the chamber as he approached his father. King Thaddeus sat on his throne, his expression one of eager anticipation, as if this meeting was one he had long awaited. Standing beside him was Caledon, the king’s ever-observant advisor, his posture calm but his gaze sharp.

Carl stopped a few steps short of the throne and offered a respectful bow, feeling his father’s gaze burn into him. The weight of Thaddeus’s authority was palpable, but Carl couldn’t deny the irritation gnawing at him. He was still bitter about being pulled away from his chambers and Amelia, his mind already itching to return.

The king didn’t waste a moment. "Are you responsible for Prince Eirik disappearance?" His voice cut through the air, direct and expectant.

Carl’s jaw tightened, a slight smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. Part of him wanted to ask, Isn’t it obvious? But he knew better than to be flippant in his father’s presence. After a brief pause, he nodded. "Yes."

A booming laugh escaped the king’s lips, filling the hall. "That’s my son!" Thaddeus roared with pride, his eyes gleaming. "I knew you would make me proud." His voice held a rare warmth, a praise that Carl knew was reserved only for actions that served his father’s ambitions.

Carl allowed himself a small, controlled smile, though he felt nothing but impatience gnawing at him. It was always the same, his father’s approval was conditional, handed out only when Carl’s actions benefited the kingdom. Or more accurately, when they benefited King Thaddeus’s schemes.

The king leaned forward, his gaze sharpening. "Where are you keeping him? Is that where you went out to this morning?"

Carl’s fingers tensed, and he forced himself to keep his expression steady. He had anticipated this question, but that didn’t make it any easier. There was no way he’d allow his father to know the location of Eirik. If Thaddeus got involved, he would seize control and Eirik would become just another pawn in his father’s game.

"Trust me, Father. I have everything under control," Carl replied smoothly, his voice steady. "Taking Eirik was my idea; let me finish what I started."

The king’s brow furrowed, his mouth tightening as his patience began to wear thin. Thaddeus didn’t take kindly to defiance, not even from his son. Carl could see the anger simmering beneath his father’s composed exterior, the way the king’s hands tightened on the arms of his throne. For a tense moment, Carl thought he would press further.

But then Caledon subtly shook his head, a mere flicker of a gesture that only the king would notice. Thaddeus paused, his irritation visibly restrained by his advisor’s silent counsel. After a tense moment, he exhaled, clearly reluctant but willing to let the matter rest.

"Very well," he said, though his eyes were still hard. "But do not disappoint me, Carl."

Carl inclined his head, keeping his relief hidden behind a mask of obedience. "I won’t, Father."

Thaddeus dismissed him with a curt wave of his hand, and Carl wasted no time in leaving the hall, eager to escape his father’s probing questions.

King Thaddeus watched his son’s retreating form with narrowed eyes. He turned to Caledon, his tone cold and distrustful. "Why did you stop me? Carl was hiding something, I could see it in his eyes."

Caledon folded his hands behind his back, his expression calm but serious. "Your Majesty, pressing Carl would likely backfire. Whatever he’s concealing, he’s deeply protective of it. Insisting might push him to act rashly or provoke him into taking more drastic steps to hide it."

The king’s jaw clenched. "And you believe it wise to simply let him act as he pleases?"

"No," Caledon replied smoothly, "I suggest a more subtle approach. Carl is careful, but he’s not immune to being observed. If we assign someone to monitor his movements, we can gather information without risking his defiance. It’s wiser to let him believe he has control, even as we keep him under our watch."

Thaddeus fell silent, considering his advisor’s words. He trusted Caledon’s judgment, a trust forged over years of loyalty and strategy. Though he despised the idea of Carl keeping secrets from him, he saw the wisdom in Caledon’s suggestion. For now, it was better to feign trust.

"Very well," the king finally said, his voice a low growl. "Keep a close eye on him. Report anything unusual."

Caledon nodded, a faint smile on his lips. "As you command, Your Majesty."

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