A Royal Obligation
Chapter 191: No one defies me

Chapter 191: No one defies me

Prince Carl stood before his mirror, his fingers adjusting the fine folds of his attire, a rich, deep shade of purple. The garment was meticulously tailored, made from lush fabrics that clung with just enough ease to enhance his silhouette.

It was a princely ensemble, with intricate silver threads sewn in the shape of vines twisting along the collar and cuffs.

The faint gleam of amethyst embellishments decorated the hem, catching the dim morning light and lending a touch of royalty to the outfit.

Purple, as always. It was a color Carl has come to love, for it reminded him of Prince Eirik’s eyes, those eyes that, in Carl’s memory, shimmered like a secret held just for him.

Carl had memorized the hue, an impossible shade that haunted his waking thoughts and his restless dreams. Dressing in that color was his way of keeping Eirik close, even when he was miles away.

He turned toward his bed, his expression turning colder. Amelia lay sprawled across the disheveled sheets, her bare limbs tangled in the silken covers, still caught in sleep’s spell.

For a fleeting moment, Carl’s gaze softened. She looked so serene, so vulnerable, but the tenderness vanished as quickly as it appeared. This was a distraction, one he hadn’t wanted and couldn’t afford to linger on.

"Amelia." His voice cut through the air, cold and final. "Leave."

Amelia stirred, her eyes blinking awake as she registered his expression. Without a word, she scrambled from the bed, hastily gathering her clothing, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and a trace of something deeper, perhaps rresentment

But Carl didn’t care. Her presence had been temporary, a fleeting comfort that meant nothing.

When she had hurriedly slipped on her dress and exited the room, Carl called for his guard. A figure clad in iron and leather appeared almost immediately outside his door, head bowed respectfully.

"Send the maids in," Carl instructed in a clipped tone, barely glancing at the guard. "I want this room cleaned."

With a nod, the guard stepped away, leaving Carl alone once more.

He cast a final glance at his reflection, ensuring every crease, every seam, was flawless. Then, with one last look around the now-empty room, he strode out with purpose, his footsteps echoing through the quiet corridor.

As he made his way to the stables, his thoughts drifted to the journey ahead. The forest that bordered Mbuzuoria and Neomenia was dense and treacherous, but the destination, the forgotten, half-buried castle hidden deep within, was one he had traveled to so often he could find it even in darkness.

That rundown structure had become a private sanctuary of sorts, a place far from the prying eyes of his father’s court. A place where he could keep Prince Eirik concealed, beyond anyone’s reach but his own.

His pulse quickened at the thought of seeing Eirik again. He had yearned for this reunion all night. Whatever it took, whatever Eirik’s response might be, Carl would have what he had longed for.

He had waited too long and sacrificed too much. He couldn’t wait anymore. He will have access to Eirik’s body today, and nothing is going to stop him.

He reached the stables, and a stable hand quickly prepared his horse, a sturdy, black stallion with a coat as dark as the midnight sky. Mounting the animal, Carl tightened his grip on the reins, his jaw set in steely resolve as he spurred the horse forward.

The early morning fog cloaked the world in a silver mist, swallowing him as he disappeared into the woods, riding toward his hidden destination.

As the shadows grew thicker around him, a prickle of unease danced along his spine. He sensed something off, the subtle crack of a branch, the almost imperceptible rustle of leaves. Carl’s gaze darted over his shoulder, catching glimpses of movement just beyond his line of sight.

He knew who it was. He doesn’t even need a soothsayer to reveal to him that his father had sent men to tail him. No doubt the king had suspected that he didn’t want him to know of Eirik’s whereabout.

Carl clenched his teeth, frustration flaring. His father wouldn’t stop until he’d stripped away everything Carl held dear.

Spurring his horse into a faster pace, Carl wove between the trees, taking narrower paths, hoping to lose his pursuers in the dense undergrowth.

Yet no matter how many turns he took, the faint sounds of pursuit grew closer. His heart pounded, a mixture of irritation and anxiety. If they followed him to Eirik’s hiding place, all would be lost.

With a calm born of experience, Carl began setting traps along the path. Loose branches arranged just so, thorny vines pulled to block the trail, subtle diversions to lead his father’s men astray. His movements were precise and efficient; he had prepared for this possibility and knew exactly how to buy himself time.

Minutes passed, and slowly, the sounds of pursuit faded. Carl exhaled in relief, guiding his horse in the opposite direction to ensure he had truly lost them. Only then did he veer back onto the path, his resolve renewed as he continued his journey to the hidden castle.

---

Meanwhile, in the grand throne room of the palace, King Thaddeus sat in his throne, his expression was dark, his fingers drumming impatiently on the armrest as he awaited news.

Today, he would finally obtain Prince Eirik. He would not allow Carl’s stubbornness to stand in the way of his plans.

The double doors swung open, and Caledon, stepped inside, bowing deeply. Thaddeus’s gaze sharpened, and he straightened, every inch of him a commanding presence.

"Well?" Thaddeus’s voice was low, dangerous. "Did they find him?"

Caledon hesitated, his face betraying only the faintest flicker of tension. "Your Majesty, I regret to report... they lost the trail. Prince Carl evaded our men in the forest."

The silence that followed was thick, oppressive. Thaddeus’s face contorted, his eyes narrowing in cold fury. "Lost the trail?" he repeated, his voice like ice. "How is it that my own men cannot keep track of a single man?"

Caledon shifted uneasily, choosing his words with care. "Prince Carl is... resourceful, Your Majesty. It seems he anticipated the pursuit and laid traps to divert our men."

Thaddeus’s fist clenched, the knuckles paling as he fought to control his anger. "Resourceful," he echoed, his tone laced with contempt. "I raised him to be cunning, not defiant. He is meddling in affairs far beyond his understanding. He thinks he can hide Eirik from me?"

Caledon remained silent, watching the king with an unreadable expression. He had served Thaddeus long enough to recognize the warning signs, the subtle shifts in posture and tone that signaled the king’s patience was at its breaking point.

"Send more men," Thaddeus commanded, his voice a low growl. "I don’t care how many it takes. I want them to search every inch of that forest, every hidden crevice and forgotten ruin. They are not to return until they bring me Prince Eirik."

Caledon nodded, bowing again. "It will be done, Your Majesty."

For a moment, Thaddeus said nothing, his gaze fixed on the distant wall as if he were seeing something beyond it, some vision of conquest and triumph that fueled his unyielding ambition.

When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, yet no less menacing.

"Carl thinks he can defy me, that he can shield Eirik from his rightful place in my plans. But he is mistaken. No one defies me. Not my enemies, and certainly not my own blood."

Caledon felt a chill run through him at the king’s words. Thaddeus’s obsession with securing Eirik was no longer merely strategic; it had become something darker, a ruthless fixation that brooked no oopposition

"As you command, Your Majesty," Caledon replied, his tone steady even as his thoughts churned with misgivings. He turned, his footsteps echoing through the throne room as he departed to fulfill the king’s orders.

As the doors closed behind him, Thaddeus leaned back in his throne, his gaze unfocused yet intense. His fingers tapped rhythmically on the armrest, a cold smile twisting his lips.

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