"Three weeks. Three weeks without light. Three days of darkness. Three days chained to a damp dungeon wall. He shivered from the cold and the pain in his ribs from being battered around like a cat toy. He was just following orders. He had just been following orders. To be a good knight. To be a good prince. He looked up and winced at light of the torch. The guards forced him up on weak legs. He felt like a newborn colt. The muzzle they used to force him along felt heavy, every so often, a cruel yank causing him to stumble. He had just been following orders. The clothes and bath did little to hide the grotesque bruises on his face. The muzzle made sense now. Hide the evidence. He was put before a throne. The conquering powers. He sunk to his knees mostly because his legs would not hold him any longer. He could only hope for mercy or death now." I hope you’ll find him a wonderful slave. "The king spoke to someone on his left. He glanced up to take in his new master."