A Royal Obligation
Chapter 240: Carl’s Escape

Chapter 240: Carl’s Escape

Amelia nodded meekly, keeping her limp exaggerated as she shuffled down the hall. Once she turned the corner and was out of the guards’ sight, her pace quickened. Every step felt like a gamble, but hesitation wasn’t an option, not when this was her only chance at escape. Her breath came in shallow bursts as she navigated the winding corridors, her destination clear: the kitchens.

The scent of roasted meat and freshly baked bread greeted her as she stepped into the bustling space. The cooks and scullery maids were too preoccupied with their tasks to pay her much attention, pots clanging and voices blending into the din. Amelia scanned the room, her eyes landing on a cluster of pitchers near the far counter, already prepared for the guards’ evening rounds.

"Amelia, what brings you here?" one of the older cooks called out, pausing as he kneaded a mound of dough. His brows furrowed as he gave her a once-over. "Shouldn’t you be with the prince?"

Amelia forced a small, sheepish smile. "He sent me to fetch his supper," she lied smoothly, her voice tinged with weariness, "but I thought I’d bring some wine to the guards first. They’ve been standing outside his chamber all day."

The cook let out a dry chuckle. "Kind of you, considering the devil they’re guarding. Prince Carl is nothing but trouble." He gestured vaguely toward the pitchers. "Go on, then. But don’t dawdle."

Nodding, Amelia made her way over to the counter, her palms slick with sweat. Her back to the cook, she discreetly pulled the vial of poison from her clothing.

Her hands shook as she uncorked it, she managed to pour the contents into one of the pitchers. The poison mixed seamlessly with the wine, leaving no trace. She swallowed hard, replaced the vial in her clothing, and carefully picked up the pitchers.

---

Back at Carl’s chambers, the guards had resumed their watch after Amelia limped away. One leaned against the wall, his head tilted back, while the other stood stiffly, his back to the door.

"Do you think the king’ll finally deal with him?" the first guard muttered, his tone edged with irritation. "The brat’s caused nothing but chaos."

The second guard snorted. "He’s the king’s blood. They never pay for their mistakes, not truly."

Their conversation was cut short as Amelia appeared at the end of the hall, carrying the pitchers of wine. She approached cautiously, her steps faltering as if weighed down by nerves, or fear.

One of the guards frowned as she drew closer. "What now?"

"I... I brought this for you," Amelia stammered, setting the pitchers down on a nearby table. "You’ve been here all day. I thought you might appreciate a drink."

The guards exchanged a glance, suspicion flickering briefly before it was overpowered by weariness. "Fine," one of them said, his voice gruff but not unkind. "Pour it, then."

Amelia’s hands trembled as she filled two goblets with the wine, but she managed to keep her expression composed. Stepping back, she watched as the guards took the cups and began to drink. Every second that followed felt agonizingly long, her heart pounding in her chest.

The first guard’s face contorted in confusion, his hand flying to his throat. "What... what did you..." he choked out, his words slurring before he collapsed, the goblet slipping from his grasp.

The second guard barely had time to react before his legs gave way, his body hitting the ground with a dull thud.

Amelia froze, staring at the fallen guards as her breathing quickened. She forced herself to move, stepping over their lifeless bodies and reaching for the keys hanging from one of their belts. Clutching them tightly, she turned and hurried back to Carl’s chamber, her steps unsteady but swift.

---

Inside, Carl was pacing like a caged predator, his frustration evident in every sharp turn. When the door creaked open, he whipped around, his eyes narrowing as Amelia stepped in.

"Well?" he demanded, his voice edged with impatience.

"They’re... dealt with," she murmured, holding up the keys.

A slow, sinister smile spread across Carl’s face. "I knew you wouldn’t fail me."

Amelia looked away, her stomach twisting with disgust. She loathed him more than ever now, but she couldn’t let her hatred show. Not yet.

Carl wasted no time in gathering what little he could carry. "Let’s see how my dear father enjoys this surprise," he sneered, his tone dripping with malice. "He thinks he can use me as a pawn? I’ll show him who the real player is."

He turned toward Amelia, his sharp gaze pinning her in place. "You’re coming with me," he said flatly. It wasn’t a suggestion.

Her heart sank, but she nodded reluctantly. Any protest would be futile, and dangerous. For now, she would follow him. Freedom, she reminded herself, would come later. It had to.

Carl strode confidently over the lifeless guards, his grip on Amelia’s arm firm as he guided her through the winding corridors of the palace. His steps were deliberate, his movements quick but cautious. He led her down a shadowed hallway, avoiding the main routes where the patrols often passed.

Amelia followed in silence, her heart pounding in her chest. She could feel the tension radiating off Carl, his expression set in a determined scowl. The air grew colder as they descended a narrow staircase she hadn’t known existed, the faint scent of damp stone filling her nose.

They stopped in front of an unassuming stone wall. Carl reached out, pressing his hand against a loose brick. With a faint click, the wall shifted, revealing the mouth of a dark tunnel. Amelia’s eyes widened in surprise, but Carl gave her no time to react, pulling her inside before the wall slid shut behind them.

"How do you even know about this?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Carl shot her a sharp look. "I know far more about this palace than my father gives me credit for. Now shut up and keep moving."

The tunnel was damp and narrow, the sound of dripping water echoing faintly. Amelia stayed close to Carl, her thoughts racing. If this was his grand plan, how far could he really get before someone noticed his absence?

---

Meanwhile, Caledon approached Carl’s chambers with a sense of purpose. The guards flanking him moved with practiced efficiency, their armor clinking softly with each step. As they turned the corner, the sight of the lifeless guards lying on the ground stopped them in their tracks.

"What..." one of the guards began, but Caledon didn’t wait to hear the rest.

"Move!" he barked, striding past the bodies. His heart pounded as he pushed open the chamber door, only to find it empty. No Carl.

"Damn it!" Caledon cursed, slamming his fist against the doorframe. His frustration was palpable as he turned to the guards. "Sound the bell! Prince Carl has escaped!"

One of the guards bolted without hesitation, the sound of his hurried footsteps fading as he disappeared down the corridor.

Caledon’s mind raced. He had known Carl was cunning, but this was a bold move, even for him. Turning back to the lifeless guards, he examined the scene closely. There was no sign of struggle, no indication they had been overpowered physically. His eyes narrowed. Poison.

"Check every exit," he ordered the remaining guards. "He couldn’t have gotten far."

---

Deep in the hidden tunnel, Carl’s pace quickened as the faint sound of a bell reached his ears, the urgent toll echoing through the stone walls.

"Shit," he hissed under his breath, his grip tightening on Amelia’s arm as he pulled her forward.

"They’ve noticed," Amelia said softly, more to herself than to him.

Carl’s jaw tightened. "Of course they’ve noticed. Now shut up and move faster."

The tunnel twisted and turned, the dim light from a single torch casting eerie shadows on the walls. Carl led them with confidence, though his frustration was clear in every step. Amelia stumbled, struggling to keep up, but she bit back any complaints.

"Where does this even lead?" she asked after a moment, her voice strained.

"Out of the palace," Carl snapped. "And if you value your life, you’ll stop asking questions and keep moving."

Amelia’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she obeyed. As much as she hated following him, she had no choice. For now.

---

Back in the study, Thaddeus stood by the window, staring into the darkening horizon. The faint glow of the setting sun cast long shadows across the room, but his mind was far from the beauty of the view. Anger and regret churned within him, the memory of Carl’s defiance gnawing at his pride.

"This is not how it was supposed to be," he muttered under his breath, gripping the edge of the windowsill until his knuckles turned white.

The sharp clang of the bell shattered the evening stillness, reverberating through the castle walls like an alarm of impending doom. Thaddeus stiffened, the sound pulling him out of his thoughts. His eyes narrowed as his stomach sank with a bitter certainty.

"Carl," he hissed, the name leaving his lips like a venomous curse.

He spun away from the window, his face contorted with fury. "That boy," he growled, pacing the room like a caged beast. "He just cannot stop making things difficult, can he?"