(A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for the delay, I've been in hospital this week. The next few weeks are going to be quite hectic so I might not be updating as much as I'd like to. But don't worry, there's still plenty more of this story to come, so keep checking back. Also, I know I've said it before, but it means so much to have received such amazing feedback for this story! Seeing a new review, or seeing a PM about it makes me so happy; because knowing that people have taken the time to read it really is wonderful. So here's to everyone one who's reviewed and read the story… thank you! I hope I can continue to please everyone, because I absolutely love writing this. Due to reasons that I don't wish to go in to, writing stories is really all I can do under the circumstances right now, so being praised for something I love doing really does mean the world. Having said that, if anyone had any suggestions as to how I can improve on my writing, please feel free to let me know, because constructive criticism is sometimes helpful. Enjoy the rest of the story, and please review if you have the time.)
Eric sat in a ball, quietly sobbing into the already soaked sleeves of his top. His head snapped up when a loud bang echoed around the stone room he was hiding in. If possible, it seemed even darker than before, and upon looking towards the gap he had squeezed through, he realised exactly why. The grandfather clock had fallen in such a way that it was now covering Eric's only exit. With panic rising rapidly inside the young Prince, he crawled quickly over to the now blocked gap. There was still enough space, above the now broken clock, for him to see into the empty hallway. It was basked in an orange glow, and the smell of burning soon made its way to Eric. Still sobbing, Eric pushed with all his strength against the heavy wooden frame, but it wouldn't move, not one inch. His breath hitched, and he began banging loudly against the wood.
"Carlotta" he cried! The four year old shrieked as his hand came into contact with the flames. He drew back immediately clutching his hand against his chest, crying against the searing pain. The grandfather clock which trapped him was up in flames, bursting through the gap, brushing against the stone, almost as if reaching out for Eric.
"Carlotta" he screamed, shuffling back against the far wall! Smoke from the flames billowed up to the ceiling of Eric's cell. Eric cried out again, but as he inhaled, the smoke rushed into his lungs, and he soon found himself caught in a violent coughing fit.
After he caught his breath, Eric's vision blurred, and his head spun. He needed to get out!
"Dad-dy" coughed Eric his voice weak and his throat sore.
"Daddy!" With renewed determination, Eric called out again, his voice echoing around him!
The King rushed up the narrow staircase towards his son's cries, ducking and weaving his way through the flames. Once at the top of the stairs, he began running down the corridor, but stopped abruptly when he heard another, weaker cry from behind him. Had he somehow already passed Eric? He backtracked slowly, listening carefully for any indication as to where his son might be.
"Daddy!" Eric's voice came out weak and choked, his lungs being deprived of oxygen due to the heavy smoke. His heart stopped and leapt simultaneously when his father's voice ploughed through the smoke.
"Eric where are you" yelled David? Eric crawled over to the gap, where the flames from the grandfather clock were beginning to die down.
"Dad-dy…" rasped Eric, looking through the gap to see his father, shielding his eyes against the bright orange light. He looked down, to see his son's face illuminated by the flames. Moving quickly, David threw what was left of the grandfather clock to one side. He grabbed Eric by the shoulder and pulled him through the gap in the wall, knocking his head on the way out. It wasn't a hard hit to the head; but in Eric's weakened state, it was enough to knock him out. David carried his son awkwardly, for he was more than a little out of practice when it came to carrying children. He was beyond mad, his anger building up inside him until he could no longer feel the flames against his skin as he ran back through the palace. He was through with Eric disobeying him; from now on he was going to be a lot stricter when it came to controlling his son. The only reason he was risking his life to save Eric, was because he was the only heir to the throne, and leaving him behind would mean letting down the people of his kingdom.
When he reached the door, he was staggering. Everything ached, his son's limp body making it increasingly difficult to carry on. But soon enough he was making his way over to the crowd of people of stood watching the palace. A few of the kingdom's doctors came rushing over, one of them taking Eric from him and carrying him off towards the medical carriage. The other's offered to help the King, but he just shrugged them off. The smoke had done nothing to affect him, for years of smoking his pipe had him prepared. He joined Grimsby, and watched as Carlotta hurried off after Eric.
"Where's Eileen" he asked? Grimsby didn't answer, but instead hung his head. David understood immediately, but made no attempt to go back into the burning palace. In fact, there wasn't a tear in his eyes.
"You're majesty" asked Grimsby cautiously? David looked towards him.
"I'm placing you in charge of my son," he said, his voice not faltering for second. "See to it that he falls in line." And with that, he strode of into the crowd. Grimsby stared after him in utter bewilderment. He was fully aware that David and Eileen seldom spoke to each other, and David was often seen with other women around the palace. But her death should have surely sparked some kind of emotion inside him. But, the more Grimsby thought about it, the more it seemed likely that David would remain careless. Anyway, there were more pressing matters on the forty six year olds mind now. He was 'in charge of Eric'. The young prince, whom would one day rule the entire kingdom, was in his charge. He could only assume that this was because David had other more important things to take of. But then, if that were the case, surely he would have made this decision the day Eric was born. Questions fluttered around Grimsby's mind, before coming upon a horrible realisation.
Eric was motherless.
The young boy who had been so full of life, so curious, with the ability to make almost everyone around him smile; Grimsby would have to tell him of his mother's passing. And, despite hardly ever talking to his mother, Eric would be heartbroken; Grimsby had no doubt about that. Because that was the kind of boy Eric was. His caring nature would bring him to tears when he heard the news. It wasn't that Eric had been close too Eileen; in fact he had been quite the opposite. It was simply the fact that she was his mother, someone who had been there his entire life.
Carlotta sat rigidly in the medical carriage as it made its way towards the hospital. She held Eric tightly in her arms, the cold air of twilight pressing against her skin, sending chills down her spine and forcing her to hold Eric even closer. His small frame was shaking, his black hair flecked with grey smoke. His blue top was singed black by the flames and there was a nasty burn to the palm of his right hand. On top of this, he was having a lot of difficulty getting air into his lungs, something that couldn't be helped until they reached the hospital. Carlotta felt like crying; Eric had only just come out of hospital and now he'd have to spend at least another couple of weeks there.
Once again, Carlotta's emotions were in a state of turmoil.