I'm Trapped Inside a Prince as the Most Powerful Entity-Chapter 31

Far away, under the cold desert moon, the line of carriages bumped slowly over the sand. Inside one, Sir Karlos looked at the worried faces of the nobles traveling with him. Lord Tyrell and Lord Rowan still looked unsure, their eyes filled with the fear of leaving everything behind.

Karlos leaned forward, his voice low but strong, cutting through the creaking sounds of the carriage. "Stop worrying," he said, his eyes sharp. He looked from one nervous face to the other. "Yes, we left the kingdom. But that doesn’t mean we’ve given up on it."

A surprised murmur went through the carriage. Lord Rowan frowned, shaking his head. "What are you talking about, Karlos? We ran away! The King still has his army. We don’t have the power to fight him, especially not now."

Karlos allowed a small, cold smile to touch his lips. "Exactly. We don’t have the power alone. That’s why we are going to the Roland Kingdom." He tapped the map spread out before him.

"They hate our King. They will be happy to help us get stronger, to give us soldiers and money. We will offer them secrets, information they can use against our old kingdom. With Roland’s help, we will go back."

He paused, letting that sink in. Then he added something else, his voice dropping even lower, like he was sharing a secret weapon. "And I didn’t leave our old home completely helpless. Before we left, I made sure things were set up."

The other nobles leaned closer, listening intently.

"There’s a group," Karlos continued, "an... international criminal organization. People who work in the shadows, mercenaries and spies. I let them spread all through my city, Crestport, before we rode out. They owe me favors. They will keep things messy there, make sure the King’s control is weak. They are my eyes and ears, and they hold a part of the city for me, even now."

He saw the surprise on their faces turning into understanding, even a little bit of fear at his planning.

"And one more thing," Karlos added, his smile widening slightly. "Many of the city guard posts in Crestport? The captains, I didn’t hire loyal men for those jobs in the last few months. I gave those posts to thieves, smugglers, men loyal only to gold... or to me. They won’t be helping the King’s men when they arrive. They will help us."

The nobles stared at Karlos. They knew he was clever and power-hungry, but this level of planning, this willingness to use criminals and foreign groups, surprised them.

They saw now how deep his betrayal ran, and how determined he was to get his power back, no matter the cost. They were tied to him now, riding through the dark desert towards an unknown future, hoping his dangerous plans would work.

Back in the capital city, the royal palace was buzzing with activity, even though it was past midnight. Lanterns burned brightly in the hallways, casting long, dancing shadows. Guards stood straighter, their faces serious. One by one, carriages had arrived, dropping off important figures summoned by the King’s urgent message.

Council members, nobles still loyal to the crown, and powerful ministers hurried through the palace corridors. Their faces showed confusion, worry, and curiosity. They whispered among themselves, wondering what could be so important that the King called them all together in the middle of the night.

Finally, the most important figure after the King arrived – the Prime Minister. He was an older man, known for his wisdom and his long service to the kingdom. He looked tired but composed as he walked towards the King’s private meeting room.

Inside the meeting room, the air felt heavy. The room itself was grand, decorated with rich tapestries, polished dark wood, and a large, gleaming gold table in the center, surrounded by high-backed chairs. It was a room built for power and important decisions.

The King and Queen were already there, waiting. The Queen sat quietly beside the main throne-like chair, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her face pale with worry.

The King sat straight and still in his chair at the head of the long table. He showed no emotion, his face like a stone mask, but his eyes were sharp and missed nothing.

The Prime Minister entered the room quietly. The guards at the door bowed as he passed. He walked directly towards the King. When he reached the King’s side, he bowed low.

"My Lord," the Prime Minister said, keeping his voice very soft, just for the King to hear. "I received your summons and came immediately. I have heard... rumors... about the terrible events of today. Assassins in the palace? Sir Karlos fleeing? I am deeply shocked, Your Majesty. Can these things truly have happened?"

The King didn’t react. He didn’t nod, didn’t frown, didn’t even blink. He simply turned his head slightly and looked directly at the Prime Minister. His gaze was calm, but cold.

"Prime Minister," the King said, his voice quiet but firm, cutting through the Prime Minister’s hushed words. "Please, take your seat. I will address everyone together, once all have arrived."

The Prime Minister paused. He understood immediately. The King’s calmness was a sign of deep anger and seriousness. This was not the time for quiet chats. The King was in a bad mood, focused only on the problem at hand.

"Of course, Your Majesty," the Prime Minister replied, bowing his head again. He quickly stepped back and moved to the chair designated for him – the one right next to the King’s chair, on the right side of the gleaming gold table.

He sat down, straightened his robes, and waited in silence like the others who were slowly filling the remaining seats around the table. The room grew quiet again, filled only with the rustle of clothes and the tense feeling of waiting.

Slowly, the large meeting room filled up. Ministers found their usual seats, their faces serious.

Nobles who lived in the capital or were visiting took their places, whispering quietly to each other, their eyes darting towards the silent King at the head of the table. The air grew thick with unanswered questions and nervous energy.

Finally, the last person arrived and settled into their chair. The room fell completely silent. All eyes turned to the King.

The King had been sitting perfectly still, watching everyone arrive. Now, he pushed his chair back slightly, the sound scraping loudly in the quiet room. He stood up slowly, placing his hands on the table before him.

He looked out at the faces turned towards him – the worried, the curious, the loyal, and perhaps, the secretly treacherous.

"Council members, Ministers, Nobles of the Kingdom," the King began, his voice clear and steady, echoing slightly in the grand room. "You were summoned here tonight because our kingdom faces a grave danger. An event took place today that shakes the very foundation of our peace."

He paused, letting his words hang in the air. "Perhaps some of you have already heard the dark rumors." He swept his gaze across the room. "But I will confirm them now, so there is no doubt. Today, we were betrayed."

A low murmur rippled through the room, even though many suspected this was coming.

"Three noble houses," the King continued, his voice growing harder, "families who swore oaths of loyalty to this crown, families who have enjoyed the protection and prosperity of this kingdom for generations... have turned their backs on us. Karlos, Tyrell, and Vance have fled the kingdom. They are traitors."

He spat the word "traitors" out like poison. Those who had already heard the news simply lowered their heads. Those hearing it for the first time gasped, their eyes wide with shock and disbelief.

The King watched their reactions carefully – the shock, the anger, the fear. He waited a moment for the initial reactions to settle.

"I know," he said, his voice softening just a little, becoming more personal.

"I understand that news like this is deeply unsettling. When trusted lords betray their king, it makes everyone question their own safety, their own neighbors. It can make you doubt your trust... in each other." He paused, looking directly at several key figures around the table.

"Or perhaps, even your trust in me, your King."

The room remained silent. No one dared to agree, but the King knew the thought was there, hiding behind their carefully controlled faces.

"That is why," the King said, raising his voice slightly again, trying to rally them, "I ask only one thing from all of you tonight. In this difficult time, this moment of crisis, we must stand together. We need patience. We need to hold onto our trust in each other, even when it feels hard. We must face this threat united."

After the King finished speaking, a heavy silence filled the room. People shifted uncomfortably in their chairs.

Some glanced nervously at their neighbors, wondering who might be thinking treacherous thoughts. Others just stared straight ahead, their faces troubled. The King’s call for unity felt necessary, but the betrayal had planted seeds of doubt that were hard to ignore.

Sitting among the gathered nobles, a little way down the long table, was a man named Benjamin Loft.

He was the head of the Loft Household. Benjamin was middle-aged, with a round face and a large belly that strained against the buttons of his expensive black coat. He looked bored, drumming his fingers lightly on the table.

While everyone else looked worried, Benjamin Loft was thinking his own thoughts. Karlos, that fool, he thought, a slight frown creasing his plump face. If he was planning to run, why didn’t he tell me? We could have coordinated. Leaving alone like that... risky.

Benjamin Loft was the noble in charge of Oxgate, a busy city right on the kingdom’s border.

He was also the city’s mayor. The King himself had given him this important job years ago. The King had been impressed by Benjamin’s apparent hard work in managing trade routes.

Also, Benjamin’s father had been a famous war hero, and the Loft family name still carried a lot of respect because of him.

But Benjamin was nothing like his heroic father. He didn’t care about honor and loyalty to the King or the kingdom. Benjamin only cared about one thing: power. More money, more influence, more control.

That’s all that mattered to him. He smiled politely when he needed to, bowed at the right times, but inside, he felt nothing but greed. He was exactly the kind of noble who watched for weakness, ready to switch sides or betray the King if it helped him get ahead. He was a hidden snake among the loyal dogs.

As Benjamin Loft listened to the King talk about trust and unity, a small smile played on his lips. He kept his face looking serious, but inside, he was scoffing. Trust? Unity? he thought, glancing up at the King at the head of the table. You’re getting weak, old man.

This kingdom is already cracked, and Karlos running away just made the crack wider.

He looked around the room, at the other nobles. He could guess what some of them were thinking, the ones who also felt the King wasn’t strong enough anymore.

You can give speeches all night, Benjamin thought, his gaze flicking towards the King’s sons, Revan and Leonard, standing silently behind their father. But it won’t save you. Not even your precious sons can stop what’s coming. He knew Revan was skilled and Leonard was apparently clever, but he believed the kingdom’s problems were too deep now.

Many other nobles in the room, the ones who felt overlooked, greedy, likely shared Benjamin’s cold thoughts, hiding their own secret plans behind masks of loyalty.

The King seemed to sense the doubt hanging in the air, even if he couldn’t see inside their minds. He took a moment, breathing in deeply, gathering himself. When he spoke again, his voice was heavy, filled with a seriousness that made everyone lean forward slightly.

"I understand," the King said, his voice lower now, more somber. "I know that this crisis... this betrayal... happened under my rule. Perhaps it happened because of my own weakness, my own failure to not see the danger growing."

He looked around the table, meeting the eyes of several key figures. "And because I accept this responsibility, I must take strong action to fix it. To root out the rot before it spreads further. That is why I have called you all here tonight. I must inform you of a decision. A necessary decision."

Everyone’s attention was now fully on the King. What could be so important? What decision needed all the council members gathered like this, in the dead of night? The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

The King took another deep breath, holding it for a second before speaking clearly and firmly.

"Starting tomorrow morning," he announced, his voice ringing with authority, "and continuing for one full month, a kingdom-wide investigation will begin."

He let that sink in for a beat.

"Every single noble house within our borders," he continued, his eyes scanning the stunned faces, "will be subject to investigation. Your lands, your finances, your records... and most importantly, your private armies and guards... all will be inspected thoroughly by officials appointed directly by the Royal Family, accompanied and enforced by the Royal Guards."

Silence.

Absolute, stunned silence fell over the entire room. You could see the shock ripple across the faces of the ministers and nobles. Investigating all noble houses? Inspecting their private armies? This was unheard of!

It was a massive overreach of royal power, a direct challenge to the independence the nobles had always guarded fiercely. It felt like an accusation against every single one of them.

Before anyone else could react, the Prime Minister, sitting to the King’s right, shot to his feet. His face was pale with alarm.

"Your Majesty!" he burst out, forgetting his earlier caution. "What are you saying? Investigate everyone?"

The King turned his head slowly to look at the Prime Minister. He didn’t look surprised by the outburst. He had clearly expected this kind of reaction. Behind the King, standing like stone statues, were Charles, the Commander of the Royal Army, and the King’s two sons, Revan and Leonard.

Their presence was a silent reminder of the King’s authority and the military power backing his decision.

The King simply stared at the Prime Minister. Under that cold gaze, the Prime Minister seemed to realize he had spoken too rashly. He took a breath, trying to control his shock, and slowly sat back down in his chair.

He cleared his throat and tried again, his voice more measured but still filled with deep concern. "Forgive my outburst, My Lord," he said quickly. "But... I mean... this is an enormous action. A drastic step. Is the kingdom truly prepared for something like this? Inspecting every noble’s army... questioning their loyalty so openly... What if this pushes more houses to rebel? What if this action causes the very disunity you seek to prevent?"

The King listened patiently until the Prime Minister finished. Then, he turned his sharp eyes back towards the older man. There was a hardness in the King’s gaze, a look that said he understood the risks perfectly.

But there was also a hint of something else – a feeling of being trapped, of knowing this dangerous path was perhaps the only one left to take, even if it led through fire.

He looked at his Prime Minister, the man who had served him loyally for years, and for a moment, the weight of his decision, and the danger it courted, seemed to settle heavily upon his shoulders. But his face remained firm. The decision was made.