Sadiki stood in the crumbling hallway of the old castle, his gaze flicking down the path where Prince Carl would arrive any moment now. He had spent the entire night waiting, his body tense, his mind turning over every possible plan to keep Prince Eirik safe. The thought of what Carl might do to Eirik if left unchecked had haunted him, especially after seeing the sheer malice in Carl's eyes the last time he visited.
It had been close to two weeks since Eirik had been brought here, drugged and kept captive in that lonely purple chamber. Sadiki had seen the bruises of restraint on the young prince's wrists, the fading glimmer of rebellion in his eyes, and it was more than he could bear. He felt the weight of his own choices pressing on him, the guilt for standing by Carl's side, for betraying his own loyalty to Prince Eirik.
