Thread: The Prince's Plight

For all of Lox's ferocity he remained frighteningly still as they carried him away and finally deposited him onto the bed where he sat up and caused his guards to tense terribly before glaring at them until they left him alone in the small room. With his rage spent for the moment a strange peace and calm fell over him for the few moments he was alone until the very whore herself showed up in his room and rekindled the rage that was close to madness. Her soft voice wormed it's way far to easily into his skull than he would have preferred, and though he spat at the woman again she was smart enough to foresee it and step aside only to lean back against the wall with a smugness that induced pure hatred. And you are quite the cowardly whore, but we both know of that truth. I guess your kinsman aren't worth much more than a viewing when a man would have been the first to step in. The hatred in his crimson seemed to seethe and he wanted nothing more than to break that delicate little neck of her's but at that moment there was a very quite knock at the door as a healer had stepped in carrying a massive basket of herbs and fresh bandages. The delicate looking man was extremely pail and Lox spared him only the slightest glare before looking back to the whore against the wall. The man stepped forward and stated the obvious, and as he moved cautiously towards Lox's side and pulled a small knife from the basket Lox turned to look at it as he cut away at the bindings that held his arms and legs so he could properly treat him. Lox had viciously beaten the kings royal guards, killed one of his former ones, and basically gave the rest a taste of utter hell with his keeping, and yet when his arms were free he was silent and still as he rolled his right shoulder. Leaning forward he placed his limp left arm over his left knee and held his arm down with his right hand at the elbow before leaning forward hard with his full weight and popped the dislocated shoulder back into place with a grimace and a look of anger. With a deep sigh he sat perfectly still as the awed healer went about his work cutting away the now destroyed shirt and treating his injuries as he found them. It was infinitely difficult to comprehend how a man who blatantly threw himself at armed guards in rage could appear so perfectly calm and composed as the small man moved about him, and as he waited with his eyes closed he only opened them and looked at the doctor when he used his small knife to cut bandages and closed them once more when it was put away. He was constantly aware of threats, but it seemed that with no obvious threat present he was completely placid even if his mind still churned over the events that had taken place. He could think of a thousand different insults to hurl at the whore, and yet he could not do so from the agony of being captured by the tramp and the thought of the sentence that had been given. It was a fault of his own for being captured, even if fate had cast him a horrible hand and still his strange sense of honor prevented him from voicing his hatred further. The small man working on him did his work well and quickly, but he seemed to marvel at the collection of scars that crossed his frame and in open at awe at some that should have killed him outright. With his ribs wrapped securely and an improvised sling to keep his left arm stable while it healed the doctor collect his things and promised to check in on him every day until he was fully recovered. Though Lox didn't know the man, he didn't want to be left alone with the whore still leaning quietly against the wall but knowing he couldn't voice such a request. The man departed unscathed to the astonishment of the guards outside, and with a quick peak inside and another hate filled glare from the prince the door was soon closed again to leave the two of them in anxious silence. He wanted nothing more than to rest and sleep, and though hunger gnawed gently at this stomach the ache in his jaw staved of any desire to eat. Not that he'd ask this filthy whore for anything asides from a direct challenge when his freedom was assured and his wounded pride could be healed at last. Scratching at the bandage wrapping around his head very lightly and wincing at the stabbing pain that would soon develop into a massive throbbing headache he glared once more with hatred at the whore. Even as anger and hate clouded his thoughts, his mind was forever agile and inquisitive of everything around him and registered the innate beauty of the woman regardless of his feelings. It was obvious by her build she was a warrior if not a dishonorable wench but there was also great beauty in her figure as well, something that only added to his hatred of her. She was short, and yet she seemed to have long legs that his overactive mind questioned as to weather or not they were silken to the touch. And while her attire did nothing to aid her it was obvious even in the plain cloths she possessed a finely curved body that demanded attention. Though he looked her over he didn't see her as a lecherous man might, but more of an object to be examined and accredited with what it possessed and nothing more. Once done he turned away from her and sat on the other side of the bed looking up longingly at the window so far up and depriving him of even a minuscule view. His anger though strong wore him out in a way he couldn't explain, and being here he couldn't indulge in the methods he usually pursued to calm himself down. Those of which were carefully guarded against anyone who might use them against him, and here everyone of these bastards could easily be counted as his enemies who wished him dead.