The Hidden Extra: The Lazy Prince Refuses to Ascend The Throne Chapter 647 Accusations From Karakh

Aldrian's brows arched faintly at the idea. "You actually have a method?" he questioned. "Or is this just empty chatter?"

That voice had driven him to wound Seira, a regret that haunted him even now. Trusting it proved difficult for him.

"I speak the truth. Your fixation on that woman has irritated me greatly. Let's resolve it swiftly."

Trapped with no other options, Aldrian clenched his jaw and consented.

"Fine, I'll give you a chance. But fail, and I won't hear your drivel anymore."

Silence followed from the voice. Yet, had it a body, a sneer would twist its face.

…

Nolan wandered casually across the palace gardens, led by the maid to an unfamiliar spot.

This seemed a private yard for royals like princes and princesses.

They halted before a door, where the maid faced him.

"Prince Karakh awaits inside, Your Highness. Enter freely."

With a nod, Nolan pushed the door open to reveal a room adorned in classic style.

Along the left wall, two bookshelves lined up neatly. In the middle, a pair of sofas faced off.

A rectangular table sat between them. One sofa held a man engrossed in a book.

Sensing Nolan's arrival, he glanced up with a smile.

"Welcome, Prince Nolan," he said, shutting the volume. "Please, come inside."

Nolan eyed him steadily before entering and plopping down opposite without ceremony.

"Care for a drink?" Karakh inquired.

Coffee nearly slipped from Nolan's lips, but he'd grown weary of it recently.

"Iced chocolate, please," he ordered.

Surprise flickered across Karakh's face, though he stayed quiet and summoned a servant to fetch it.

"Well then," Nolan drawled, legs crossed in relaxation. "What's the reason for summoning me?"

"Suppose I claim it's merely for idle talk—would you buy that?"

Nolan's face stayed impassive, unruffled.

"Tch." A light laugh escaped Karakh. "Prince Nolan, you're in a league of your own. Folks call you a useless slacker prince, yet your scant feats dazzle. I doubt other princes match them. And—"

Nolan yawned mid-sentence, flicking his hand dismissively.

"Cut the flattery. Spill it—what's your aim?"

Karakh paused briefly, then offered a subtle grin.

"Your directness makes me question if you're royalty at all."

Nobles typically opened with courteous banter, rendering Nolan's approach striking.

"Very well, to the heart of it," Karakh pressed on, sitting up straight and locking eyes with Nolan. "Prince—or rather, Nolan Lorian. You orchestrated the chaos two days back, correct?"

Tension thickened the air into heavy quiet. Nolan appeared unfazed, untouched by the claim.

As words formed on his tongue, a servant entered, setting down the iced chocolate.

Nolan grasped the glass, took a sip, and queried, "What evidence pins that on me, Prince Karakh?"

"You gained the most from it," Karakh shot back icily, then rattled off points he saw as Nolan's guilt.

Nolan sipped in silence as he listened. Yet the longer it went, the quieter he grew.

'His fancy runs too far,' Nolan mused, lip corner twitching faintly.

At first glance, Karakh's case seemed solid, riddled though it was with flaws.

Timing stood out as one flaw—along with Nolan's whereabouts. He holed up in his quarters daily, emerging only for Alina.

Such charges might hold if Karakh knew of Nolan as the Singularity of Chaos.

Nobody did, though. Thus, Karakh's every claim boiled down to guesswork.

Nolan sighed softly, placed his glass on the table, and reclined into the sofa.

"I appreciate the breakdown, but it falls apart," he stated evenly. "One, no motive exists for me. Harming those nobles holds zero appeal. Two, no opportunity either. I linger in my room, chatting with Alina now and then—that's my routine. Three…"

Nolan's lips curved into a sly grin as he regarded Karakh offhandedly.

"Truth be told, I peg you as the guilty one, Your Highness."

Karakh's face hardened. Seconds later, his palm crashed onto the table. "Ridiculous! Me, pull that off?" he barked.

His devotion to the kingdom burned fierce. Father's baffling choice of Aldrian as heir never dulled that loyalty.

"You proclaim innocence boldly," Nolan noted coolly. "So what fuels your conviction that I'm behind it?"

Karakh went still. Nolan pressed before he could reply.

"Were your charges solid, your father would've grilled me by now. He hasn't. Instead, you, Meliodas, and the rest face scrutiny. Doubt it? Wait days—your father will call you siblings in."

Nolan slouched back lazily, savoring another leisurely sip of iced chocolate.

Naturally, Nolan knew the true perpetrator: Meliodas. Post-torture, the man's mind shattered into madness.

Still, Nolan held his tongue. Revealing it prematurely didn't suit his plans.

Fear and doubt should ensnare Gulvar longer.

Such turmoil would destabilize Eron's ancient politics, aiding the Great Velmora Empire.

"Ugh…" Karakh found himself boxed in, words failing.

Honestly, certainty eluded him on Nolan's guilt. Meliodas or another prince seemed likelier suspects.

Voicing hunches sans evidence risked rebounding harm.

"Enough on suspicions, Prince Karakh." Nolan's playful tone cut in. "I've a question: do you crave the throne?"

"The throne?" Karakh jolted at the query. "Explain yourself."

"No feigning ignorance," Nolan smirked faintly. "Your ambition shines through. You eye the crown next, true?"

Nolan's grin widened. "I've long meant to broach this with you. Your invite today makes it ideal."

Eyes sharpening, he added, "Karakh Lyren, yearn to rule this realm outright? I offer a path."

Leaning in intently, Nolan fixed him with a pointed gaze.

"Simply wondering… does my offer intrigue you?"