Chapter 5

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  “They didn’t dress your wound?”

  Ambrosius opened his eyes and looked over to see Prince Thorn standing outside of his cell again.

  “Not very well.” He responded, rubbing his face with a hand. He can’t sleep, and it doesn’t help that every ten minutes or so, Prince Thorn and his guards come down here to patrol, and Thorn seems to enjoy starting conversations with him.

  The young prince frowned before calling down the hallway. “Remi, bring some poultice, bandages, and alcohol, if you please.”

  “What for?” Replied a man with a French accent.

  “To treat a wound,” Thorn responded.

  “The kid’s going to die tomorrow. Why must we treat him?”

  “Remi.”

  There was a heavy sigh, some mumbles in another language, then footsteps as he left to fetch the supplies.

  Ambrosius frowned, then pushed himself into a sitting position to stare at Thorn. “No, really, why? There’s no point.”

  “Think of it as a customary ritual. It’s the least we could do for the condemned.”

  “How ever so kind.” Ambrosius droned, rolling his eyes.

  The guard named Remi soon returned with the supplies, unlocking the cell door and stepping in, then closed it behind him.

  He turned to Ambrosius with an uncertain look in his green eyes. “I’m going to treat your wound. If you’d be so kind as to not attack me, that’d be great. It wouldn’t be very good for either of us.”

  Ambrosius honestly considered it, but once again, he knew there isn’t anything he can do. He’s injured, therefore anything he did is flawed. He won’t make it out of the dungeons without Thorn and the other guards catching him. So, Ambrosius averted his gaze as he nodded his head to let Remi know he won’t fight.

  Remi was still cautious as he made his way to the younger male, then he looked over his shoulder to give Prince Thorn a small glare, which the prince only returned with a grin.

  Ambrosius watched as Remi knelt down beside him and gently unwrapped the dirty bandages from his leg. Ambrosius hissed as the last part of the bandage pulled away from the wound, sticky with blood.

  “Why did they shoot you?” Remi asked as he began to clean the wound. Ambrosius winced at the stinging pain, but responded.

  “I ran.”

  “That’s it?”

  “And I stole.”

  Remi sighed as he shook his head, holding up some sort of herb before gently pressing it against the wound. “Pirate. Right.”

  “What did you steal?” Thorn asked curiously and Ambrosius frowned, but replied.

  “A few shirts.”

  Both Remi’s and Thorn’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

  “You’re a pirate,” Remi stated as he wrapped up Ambrosius’s leg with clean bandages, “And all you took were a few shirts? And you were caught?”

  Ambrosius rolled his eyes and sighed. “Yes. Yes, I was.”

  “You haven’t been a pirate very long, have you?” Thorn asked and Ambrosius wrinkled his nose.

  “That’s exactly what your commodore asked me earlier. I was sort of hoping you weren’t so pompous.”

  Thorn shook his head and grunted. “I’d rather lay in a pin of pigs than to act like him. He’s annoying.”

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