I'm Trapped Inside a Prince as the Most Powerful Entity-Chapter 47: King James

The scene shifts, moving far away from the bloody corridors of the Spider Syndicate’s hidden base and the chaos in Crestport City. We are now in the Roland Kingdom, a powerful rival nation bordering Sir Karlos’s former homeland.

After days of hard travel through the desolate Sunken Sands desert, Karlos and the heads of the three noble families who had fled with him finally reached the capital city of the Roland Kingdom.

It was a large, imposing city, its walls strong and its banners flying proudly. As their dusty carriages and tired soldiers approached the main gates, they saw a contingent of the Roland Kingdom’s Royal Army waiting for them.

These soldiers looked impressive and disciplined. They wore bright red uniforms under gleaming golden armor, their helmets polished, their spears held perfectly straight.

Standing at the head of this welcoming party was a young man with an air of command. He was tall, with a stern expression, and wore armor even finer than the soldiers behind him.

This was Prince Alaric, the First Prince of the Roland Kingdom, the heir to the throne. Behind him stood a unit of his personal Royal Guards, looking just as formidable as the army soldiers.

Sir Karlos, despite his own high rank in his former kingdom, immediately dismounted from his carriage as he neared the Prince. He walked forward and bowed deeply before Prince Alaric, his head bent low in a show of respect and submission.

The heads of the other three noble families who had accompanied Karlos quickly followed his example, dismounting from their own carriages and bowing low beside him. They were now refugees seeking asylum, and their actions reflected their vulnerable position.

Prince Alaric watched them bow, his expression unreadable. He didn’t smile or offer any words of welcome. He simply gestured forward with one hand, a curt, impatient movement. "Follow me. Quickly," the Prince commanded, his voice sharp and clear.

Karlos and the other nobles straightened up, relieved that they were at least being received. They started to walk forward, intending to follow the Prince and his guards into the city.

But they had taken only a few steps when Prince Alaric suddenly stopped and turned around, looking back at them with a frown. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice laced with annoyance.

Karlos paused, a flicker of fear crossing his face. He looked confused. "My Lord Prince," Karlos stammered, bowing his head slightly again. "You... you said to follow you. You said you were expecting us." He felt a knot of unease tighten in his stomach.

Prince Alaric glared at Karlos, his eyes cold. "I said you," the Prince emphasized, pointing a finger directly at Karlos. "Not them." He gestured dismissively towards the other three noblemen standing nervously behind Karlos. "They will wait here. Outside the city gates. Under guard."

Karlos felt a chill. He glanced back at his companions – Lord Tyrell, Lord Rowan, and Lord Vance. Their faces showed clear fear and apprehension.

They had risked everything to follow him, and now they were being separated, left outside the protection of the city walls with only the Roland Kingdom’s soldiers for company. Karlos knew he couldn’t protest. He was in no position to make demands.

He quickly gave his companions a subtle signal with his eyes and a slight shake of his head, indicating they should obey without argument. He saw the fear in their eyes, but they nodded almost imperceptibly, understanding they had no choice. They would wait. Karlos turned back to Prince Alaric, bowing his head once more. "As you command, Your Highness."

"Good," Prince Alaric said curtly. He turned and started walking towards the city gates again, clearly expecting Karlos to follow him alone.

The other three nobles were left standing awkwardly outside the gates, surrounded by the impassive Roland Kingdom soldiers.

They watched Karlos hurry after the Prince, their futures now entirely dependent on whatever deal Karlos could strike inside those formidable city walls.

Karlos quickly caught up to Prince Alaric, walking a respectful half-step behind him as they passed through the massive city gates and into the bustling streets of the Roland capital.

As they walked, Karlos, ever the flatterer, tried to engage the Prince in conversation, hoping to gain some favor.

"My Lord Prince," Karlos began, his voice smooth and deferential. "Even from afar, in my own kingdom, I have heard tales of your brilliance, your strategic mind. They say you are a true genius, a leader whose fame has spread to distant lands." He bowed his head slightly as they walked.

"I never imagined I would have the honor of meeting you in person, let alone being escorted by you. This is truly a great privilege, Your Highness."

Prince Alaric didn’t even glance at Karlos. He kept his eyes fixed straight ahead, his expression unchanging, completely ignoring Karlos’s fawning words.

He simply continued walking at a brisk pace through the city streets, deeper into the heart of the Roland Kingdom’s power. Karlos trailed silently behind him, his attempts at flattery clearly having no effect.

Prince Alaric led Karlos through the impressive city, past grand buildings and watchful citizens, until they reached the royal palace. It was a massive, imposing fortress, even grander than the palace Karlos had just betrayed.

Royal Guards in their red and gold uniforms stood sentinel at every entrance, their eyes sharp and missing nothing.

They entered a large antechamber, where even more guards stood at attention. These guards eyed Karlos with open suspicion and disdain as he walked past with the Prince.

Finally, Prince Alaric stopped before a set of towering, ornate double doors. Two Royal Guards, their armor even more elaborate, stood on either side of the doors, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords.

The Prince nodded curtly to the guards, who immediately pulled the heavy doors open, revealing a vast, opulent throne room beyond. Prince Alaric gestured for Karlos to enter, then followed him inside.

Karlos stepped into the throne room, his eyes taking in the lavish surroundings – rich tapestries, golden chandeliers, and a long, polished marble floor leading to a raised dais where a magnificent throne sat.

And on that throne, looking down at him with an unreadable expression, was King James Cameron of the Roland Kingdom.

King James was a man in his prime, with a strong build, a neatly trimmed beard, and eyes that seemed to see everything. He wore a crown of gold and jewels, and his royal robes were made of the finest silks.

Sitting on slightly lower chairs on either side of the throne were the King’s chief advisor, an older, scholarly-looking man, and the Kingdom’s Prime Minister, a stern-faced individual with an air of authority. They all looked at Karlos as he entered.

Prince Alaric walked forward and took his place standing silently just behind his father’s throne, his expression still stern and watchful.

As King James saw Karlos enter, a slow smile spread across his face. It wasn’t a warm smile; it was the smile of a predator who had just seen his prey walk willingly into his trap.

"Ah, Sir Karlos," the King said, his voice smooth and deep, echoing slightly in the vast room. "I have been expecting you. Welcome to my court." He gestured towards an empty, ornate chair placed directly in front of the dais, across a low, polished table. "Come. Sit. We have much to discuss."

Karlos felt a wave of nervousness wash over him despite the King’s seemingly welcoming words. He bowed deeply again, his heart pounding. "Your Majesty," he said, his voice a little shaky. He walked forward cautiously and sat down stiffly on the edge of the offered chair, feeling very small and vulnerable under the combined gaze of the King, the Prince, and their chief advisors.

"Tell me, Sir Karlos," King James began, leaning back slightly in his throne, steepling his fingers. "Did you encounter any... difficulties... on your journey here? The Sunken Sands can be rather inhospitable, I hear."

Karlos quickly shook his head. "No, no, Your Majesty," he stammered, trying to compose himself. "The journey was... uneventful, thank you for asking." He forced a smile. "But it is truly an honor, a profound honor, to finally meet you in person, Your Majesty. To be in your presence..."

King James waved a dismissive hand, cutting off Karlos’s attempt at more flattery. "Enough with the formalities, Sir Karlos," the King said, his smile fading slightly, his eyes becoming sharper. "Let us get straight to the point, shall we? Time is a precious commodity."

Karlos understood immediately. The King wasn’t interested in pleasantries. His value to this kingdom, his very survival here, depended entirely on what he could offer. There would be no room for maneuvering, no time for clever political games. It was a blunt transaction.

He took a deep breath, pushing down his nervousness, and summoned a confident smile. "Of course, Your Majesty," Karlos said smoothly. "I understand completely. And I believe I have brought with me precisely what you desire."

King James leaned back further in his throne, his eyes narrowing slightly, a flicker of interest in them now. "Oh?" he said softly. "Is that so? Then by all means, Sir Karlos. I am listening."

Karlos leaned forward slightly in his chair, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "Your Majesty," he began, "I have come bearing gifts. Gifts of immense value to the Roland Kingdom." He paused for effect.

"I possess detailed knowledge of my former kingdom’s military installations – the locations of their forts, the strength of their garrisons, their supply routes. More importantly," he added, his eyes gleaming,

"I know their army’s secrets. Their training methods, their battle plans, their weaknesses."

A visible flicker of surprise crossed King James’s face. Even the stoic Prince Alaric behind the throne seemed to shift his weight slightly, his attention sharpening. The chief advisor and the Prime Minister exchanged quick, meaningful glances. Secrets of a rival kingdom’s military were indeed a prize of immense value.

"And you are willing," King James asked slowly, his voice very quiet now, "to share these... secrets... with us? With the Roland Kingdom?"

Karlos smiled, a wolfish grin that showed his true nature. "Your Majesty," he said smoothly, "that is precisely why I have risked everything to come here." He felt a surge of confidence. This was his trump card, his key to survival and perhaps even to future power.

King James also smiled, a genuine smile this time, though it still held a predatory edge. "A very valuable bargaining chip indeed, Sir Karlos," the King acknowledged, nodding slowly.

"Well played." He leaned forward again, his expression becoming all business. "But every bargain has two sides. You offer us these secrets. In return... what do you require from me?"

Karlos knew this was the crucial moment. He had to choose his words carefully. He couldn’t appear too greedy, but he also needed to secure his own future. He had planned for this.

He adopted a look of humble appeal. "Your Majesty," Karlos began, "I ask for only one thing. Your aid. Your support." He paused, then continued, "As you know, the King of my former land... he has grown weak. His grip on power is failing." He shook his head sadly, as if lamenting the state of his old kingdom.

"And his heirs... his three sons... I fear they are not strong enough, not capable enough, to face the challenges that lie ahead for our kingdom. They cannot protect it."

King James listened impassively, his face showing no reaction to Karlos’s assessment of his rival’s family.

"So," the King said slowly when Karlos finished, his tone carefully neutral, "you are suggesting that, in exchange for these military secrets, I should... what? Invade my neighboring kingdom? Overthrow their current King? And perhaps... install you on their throne in his place?" There was a hint of amusement, or perhaps sarcasm, in the King’s voice now.

Karlos felt a bead of sweat trickle down his back. The King’s tone made him nervous. He had perhaps overplayed his hand slightly by implying he wanted the throne directly. He quickly tried to backtrack, to reframe his request.

"Your Majesty!" Karlos said quickly, trying to sound reasonable. "Such a course of action... it would be of immense benefit to you as well! To the Roland Kingdom!"

King James raised an eyebrow, looking genuinely surprised by this assertion. "Oh? My benefit, you say?" he asked, a dangerous glint in his eye. "And how, pray tell, do you know what benefits me, Sir Karlos? Are you privy to the innermost councils of the Roland Kingdom now?"

Karlos felt his nervousness increase. He was treading on dangerous ground. He had to offer something more, something concrete that would appeal directly to the King’s own interests, beyond just weakening a rival. He scrambled for the other part of his plan, the part involving the Spider Syndicate.

"Your Majesty, forgive my presumption," Karlos stammered, hurrying to speak before the King dismissed him.

"But as you are undoubtedly aware... the Spider Syndicate has become a plague upon all our kingdoms in this region. Their agents are everywhere. They sow chaos, corruption, and fear." He saw a flicker of anger cross Prince Alaric’s face at the mention of the Syndicate, a clear indication that they were a problem here too.

King James, however, remained impassive, listening. "No king, no kingdom, truly knows the full extent of their operations, or where their main base is hidden, or even who truly controls them from the shadows."

King James nodded slowly. "Indeed," he said quietly. "The Spider Syndicate is a persistent annoyance. So, what of it? Are you implying that you know who created them? Or where their headquarters are?"

Karlos shook his head quickly. "No, Your Majesty, I do not possess that knowledge directly," he admitted.

"However," he leaned forward again, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "I have cultivated... a rather close working relationship with some of their key operatives within my former kingdom. In fact," he added, a hint of pride in his voice,

"I was instrumental in allowing them to spread their network so thoroughly there. My actions have... significantly increased their influence, their corruption, even within the capital city itself. It is now riddled with their agents and infiltrators." He presented this as a strength, a sign of his own cunning and connections, rather than the treason it truly was.

"And so," Karlos concluded, laying his final offer on the table,

"I propose an alliance, Your Majesty. You aid me in... rectifying the situation in my former kingdom. In return, I will not only provide you with all the military secrets I possess, but I will also share my knowledge of the Spider Syndicate’s operations within that land. Their contacts, their methods, perhaps even clues to their leadership. Together, we can weaken two of your rivals – my former King, and the Syndicate itself."

He leaned back, a confident smile on his face now. He had played all his cards. Military secrets and intelligence on the elusive Spider Syndicate. It was a powerful offer, one he felt sure King James could not refuse.

King James was silent for a long moment, his eyes fixed on Karlos, considering the proposal.

The Prime Minister and the chief advisor exchanged another look, their expressions unreadable.

The air in the throne room was thick with unspoken calculations. Karlos waited, his heart pounding, his future hanging in the balance. He felt a surge of confidence. This deal, he was sure, would be accepted.