Carl stood by the window, his face a mask of cold determination. The soft glow of the dying sun painted the chamber in hues of gold and red, but he felt none of its warmth. Shadows crept across the walls, mirroring the dark resolve hardening within him.
He wouldn't waste another ounce of energy on futile rage. If his father wanted him caged, so be it, for now. But no lock, no guard, and certainly no decree could contain what he was planning.
He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, his gaze drifting to the horizon. He would find a way to escape, but not in a fit of blind fury. That approach had gotten him nowhere in the past few days.
No, this time, he would be smarter, more calculating. He needed allies, people who could recognize his potential, his vision for the kingdom. Carl clenched his fists and forced a slow, deliberate breath. His father and the council had humiliated him, but they hadn't broken him.
