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Prince Damien was not strong enough.

He could hardly sit up. The explosion had caused a lot of damage and he was constantly in pain. The doctors who had come to check up on him had ignored it. They probably think I deserve it, he thought bitterly. 

His calf bone had been set a few hours ago and it throbbed. 

After his dinner, he fought the pain and dizziness and pushed himself to part from the comfort of the bed.

Whenever he tried to shift his weight to the bad leg, a sharp jolt paralysed him before he collapsed on the side of the bed.

He was angry at how helpless he was.

If only he could have escaped before the explosion!

Using the side of the bed as his support, he rose again. His good leg quivered as it bore all his weight. 

What was he thinking saying all of that to an unstable woman!

'Just a little more,' he gritted his teeth as pain exploded in the back of his head. 

The warrior was the only one standing between him and his freedom. If he could just knock him out... 

The maid would be easy to handle. She was already scared witless. He could get her to help him. 

He hobbled toward the fruit basket. There was no knife. However, there was a fork on the dinner tray. 

That was as good as anything. 

There was a narrow slit near the helmet and the collar of the armour. If he could strike him there, the warrior would drown in his own blood. To do that he would need a lot of time. It would take months before he was agile enough to attack with such precision with his recovery rate. 

But now he was weak. 

Weak

Prince Damien despised that word. 

When he looked into the mirror, he saw a stranger that looked like him but was nothing like him. He used to be strong and brave. 

Now, he looked shallow and broken. 

What had happened to him!

He was all skin and bones. One could see outline his bones as the shadows settled over the crevices of his skin. 

He slammed the palm of his hand against the silvered surface. 

It rattled loudly. 

At the sound, something inside of him snapped. 

The mirror!

Suddenly, there was hope again. 

Carefully, he reached for the edges of the mirror. He was aware of the warrior that was stationed outside. If he dropped the mirror, it would alarm him. 

So he hobbled back to his bed and rested his legs. There was no use getting all worked up over nothing. 

He needed his strength as much as he needed a weapon. 

He tried to think of home, the Dithrai Castle, but he could no longer remember anything. The explosion had done something to his head. He could hardly remember their faces anymore. Even Amara's face was a blur- save those piercing emerald eyes. 

He did not want to forget. 

He knew if he did, he would never find the courage to escape. 

º

Raphael watched the dark sky with his arms tucked under his head. He was lying on the shawl that he had covered the ground with. On the other side of the fire, were Felicia and Alistair.

He turned his head. Felicia was stroking the boy's hair as she hummed a lullaby. He had never heard it before but it was beautiful. 

The boy was sound asleep.

For someone his age, he snored loudly. 

The former General found it funny. 

She caught him staring at her. Her eyes narrowed down to slits. 'What!' She hissed. 

He shook his head and turned his attention back to the starry sky. 

'I demand to know what you're thinking!' 

He rolled his eyes. Why had he even bothered to look at her? He had enjoyed the silence despite the tension that floated around them.

How was it that she was all butterflies and rainbows when it came to the demon boy but all thorns and needles when it came to him?

He thought she hated demons. 

'Do not ignore me!'

He wanted to laugh. What could she do? He thought. 

His consciousness provided him with a terrifying answer. The way she punched the bulky demon unconscious came back to him. 

He gave in. 'What?'

'Shh!' She hissed. 'You'll wake him up!'

'You've been screaming for a long time and he has hardly moved,' he spoke. 

She shot him a glare. 'Why were you looking at me!' She demanded. 

He was taken aback. 'I don't see what the problem is.' 

'Why were you looking!'

'Because I have eyes,' came the childish reply. 

'Don't test me, Raphael!' 

That was the first time she had called him by name. He grinned.

'Don't give me that smile! Tell me! Why were you looking at me!'

'It's nothing, Felicia,' he said, softly. 'You should get some rest. I'll take the first watch. Goodnight.' 

The silence was his answer, yet there was a smile on his face that refused to leave him when he heard slight shuffling. 

'Goodnight, Raphael.' 

He resisted the urge to chuckle. 

Who would have thought that one of the most powerful Dithrai women would have a soft spot for demons!


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