The Rose's Thorn

Chapter Five

Nathaniel Aecroston

August 3rd, 5:48 AM

Nathaniel had barely slept that night. His arms had fallen asleep, and every attempt to move just caused even more pain. His ribs were sore, his back was sore, and his body was as stiff as a board.

He had been submerged into darkness the second Vincent had closed the door, but by now his eyes, which were heavy with exhaustion, had adjusted to the dark. He couldn't have gotten more than an hour of sleep, not that he could keep track of the time, anyways.

Nathan tugged lazily at the chains that held him, ignoring the pain that jolted up his arms. His fingers ran across the locks on the cuffs. It wasn't a hard lock, he could most likely pick it if he had the materials. But, unfortunately, he didn't. Not yet, anyways.

Nathaniel yawned, stretching his legs out in front of him. His body screamed in protest. "God help me..." He clasped his hands together above his head, mumbling a quick prayer below his breath.

Maybe, just maybe, God would answer his prayers this time.

There was a knock on the door, and Nathan perked his head up. "Uhm... H-hello?" His voice was hoarse, unrecognizable to him.

A moment passed, and the door opened. He narrowed his eyes as the light flooded in. He wasn't used to it yet. "Good morning, sire." Standing before him was the dark shadow of a young boy dressed in page attire. He even had the dorky little hat.

Nathan didn't speak a word, simply glaring at the boy. He looked to only be about 15. There was no way he was older than Nathan.

"Uh- well, I'm here to take your request for breakfast, sire." The page shifted nervously, pulling a quill from behind his ear, and a page of parchment from his pocket.

The prince scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Take that quill and shove it." He snapped, before dropping his head back against the wall. He turned his face away from the page. He knew he was being difficult, and he didn't quite care.

The boy didn't speak another word, and a moment later Nathan heard the door close.

Nathaniel rubbed at his wrists. He could feel where the cuffs were digging into his skin. It was certainly going to leave a mark. However, if he could just get his hands on some pins, or something similar, he would be able to break free of the cuffs. The door was his next problem. There was seemingly no way to open it from the inside. There wasn't even a handle on his side of the door. That meant he would either have to take Vincent by surprise, or he would have to break the lock from the slit between the door and the wall. That in itself would take a lot of work, and a very heavy object.

Nathan's eyes scanned the dark room, but there really weren't many options. The candelabra, the actual candle, maybe the handcuffs once he got them off.

God, he was so screwed. Nobody was coming to save him, Vincent was right about that. Even if Collin wanted to, it just wasn't possible. So that left Nathan to save himself. And that wasn't happening anytime soon.

"Nathaniel," Vincent's deep voice came from the other side of the door, "are you decent?" His voice dropped off into a more teasing tone, and the door was opened without waiting for a response.

"Emotionally, no. Now if you wanted to know whether or not I was dressed, then yes. Yes I am." Nathan opened his eyes, wincing at the sudden light once more. Vincent was leaned against the door frame, staring down at him. He was dressed in fine clothes now, no longer in his armor.

"Getting rather bold now, aren't we?" Vincent propped the door open with a block of wood, kneeling down in front of Nathan. "You need not take your frustrations out on the servants. They are simply doing their jobs." He placed a finger under Nathan's chin, tilting it upwards, then left, then right.