The Kingdom of Prospit was in an uproar when their heir was abducted from his carriage on his way back from his visit to Derse. Foul play was suspected but he was taken while far within Prospit’s boarders, so the intentions and alliance of those responsible were still unknown. Derse immediately sent aid to help find the young Prince but so far their efforts were in vain. Whoever had taken him had killed his guards and had not been foolish enough to take the chariot or any of the recognizable valuables. They had simply taken him, the money, and the weapons. The King was not pleased his son was taken but he didn’t lose heart. He knew his boy to be resourceful. He ordered his one of his son’s closest friends, the Page, to join the team Derse had sent and take some of their own best to try and find who had taken him, why, and to bring him and possibly those responsible back alive.
Karkat watched the sixteen year old sleep peacefully in the room they had provided John. The troll was silently bouncing his leg and listening intently for any little noise. He placed his hand on his knee and gave it a squeeze to try and make himself stop before beginning to wring his hands in his lap. He couldn’t seem to stop shaking. ‘Bad idea, worst fucking idea. Why the hell did I let them talk me into helping them abduct the Heir? Oh yeah because Karkat fucking Vantas is a stupid grub who couldn’t convince his idiot friends that they’d all die a painful death together in the name of equality. Woop de fucking do. I don’t give a shit that my father was a champion for the cause. He’s fucking six feet under and has been for sweeps now. Who gives a shit if the Duchess is out to take the throne and make things worse for for all of us? Keeping him here isn’t going to open the King’s eyes and if whoever he and Derse have sent don’t kill us her minions are sure to. I’ll never see the beginning of my twelfth sweep.’
He’d been trying to keep him comfortable. He feed him even when the others said not to since he’d misbehaved. He’d given him his blanket so he’d sleep comfortably and stroked his hair when he’d been having a nightmare. He was telling him stories to pass the time faster and had even managed to hold his temper when John had offered to swap places with him to show him how to be a real kidnapper like the others were talking about. He’d been tempting to accept for a moment. Just to maybe have something to be actually angry with the kid about. The problem was he didn’t want to be. He didn’t have the will or desire to hurt him. He was far too soft for this.