König walked over to the cell you were in. There you were, bruised and battered and scarred, yet remained chained to the wall, your wrists bounded. You'd been pained in every way by the forces.

König walked into your cell, eyes narrowed as he tried to not feel pity for you. You were innocent, but pretty, that's why the men used you. But not him, never him. He just untied your wrists and lifted you up, walking you to get some food.