In Pieces

Chapter 17: At the very least he won't r*pe me.

"I'm sorry," the Prince finally broke the silence.

"How interesting. I was sure "sorry" wasn't part of your vocabulary," Aidan tried to smile, but the corners of his lips were too sore for that.

"What do you want me to say? My uncle would have taken your slave sooner or later! If I didn't give him a chance, somebody else would," the Prince now sounded like a wronged child.

"Whatever you wish to tell yourself... Your Highness," Aidan said with no expression. He knew from the very beginning that this guy was as slippery as an eel. But for some unknown reason, Aidan had managed to develop a soft spot for him. And now Corus had to pay for Aidan's gullibility.

"But you wanted to get rid of him yourself, remember?" the Prince exclaimed with a slight tremble in his voice. "That time, when we were riding back to the capital, you told me that you were not going to own any slaves anymore. Why did you suddenly change your mind? Why the fuck are you willing to ruin your whole life and leave yourself at the mercy of my madman uncle just for the sake of some slave?"

Aidan sneered with contempt. Of course, somebody like this guy would not understand.

"What does your uncle do to all those slaves he collects?" Aidan asked.

The Prince didn't respond for a while. Waiting for his answer, Aidan managed to crawl a bit closer to the bars and a bit farther from those loud rats.

"I don't know," the Prince said at last.

"Do you think it's something good?" Aidan asked softly.

There was another long silence.

"If you really need to think about it for so long, I have either overestimated your intelligence or underestimated your vileness," Aidan finally lost his patience. "Either way, I don't care anymore. So why did you come here in the first place? To gloat? To stare at me in silence? Because, you know, it's kind of late, and you woke me up from a very good dream."

"Sorry. I came to give you this," the Prince pushed something soft through the bars. Aidan raised his hand to grab it and immediately regretted his decision. His back responded with agonizing pain that made his stomach churn. Who knew that moving a hand required so many back muscles to contract?

Aidan swore under his nose but outwardly didn't show any signs of being in pain.

"It's a blanket," the Prince said awkwardly. "The dungeons are cold and dirty, so..."

"How thoughtful," Aidan almost laughed out loud.

"If you need something else, I can arrange it," Mr. Bigshot was obviously not too good at discerning sarcasm.

"Then bring me some wine and some smokes next time," said Aidan, feeling cold beads of sweat form on his forehead. Great. It seemed he was developing a fever.

"What?" the Prince asked, confused.

"Never mind," Aidan would have waived him away if he dared to move his arms at the moment. "You don't need to come anymore. You and I - we're done."

"I will get you out of here, I promise. I just need some time," for some reason, the Prince now tried to plead with him. Aidan found the whole situation ridiculous.

"How about you just fuck off and do what you're best at – pretend like you don't know what's happening and just let your uncle get away with everything? Though, I'm pretty sure at the very least he won't r*pe me... From what I hear, I'm not his type," Aidan spat out with disdain.

Even in the dim lights, Aidan could see that the Prince became much paler than usual – he looked like he had just received a hard blow to the face. For a moment, Aidan felt guilty. His words might have been too harsh, but he was really at the end of his nerve. Pain and anger had a tendency to make him a little less diplomatic than usual.