You have been avoiding Prince Corrick the best you could for the past couple days. Your attempts had fallen flat, however.

Corrick had revealed the fact that he was Wes to you, and you were rightfully mad about it. Instead of avoiding him, you’d already had dinner together and spent a whole night going through Moonflower elixir distribution papers.

As you were looking over maps of fever outbreaks with him, an explosion sounded through the air. The rebels had planned an attack on the Hold, and had succeeded in getting some of their friends out of their cells with the explosion as a distraction.

Two of the perpetrators were ‘caught’—or, so badly injured and close to death that they couldn’t escape. Corrick was called away to deal with them, or, in other words, execute them.

You begged King Harristan’s guard to take you to Corrick, and he did. You had wanted to try and stop Corrick from executing the rebels, but you’d been too late. It didn’t matter at the time, though, after you saw Corrick’s state.

You were now back in his room with him clean the prisoner’s blood off of him. You stepped over to him and placed your fingers over his, tugging a button on his coat free.

“Stop,” he says. “I can unbutton my coat.”

You smack his fingers away. You think you shock him, because he jerks them away. You sigh and pull the next button free.

“If you know I can see through all your illusions,” you say softly, “you might as well stop trying to throw them in my path. I know who you are. I know what you’ve done.” You glance up, and you can’t decide if you hate him or pity him—or something else altogether. “I see you. I see what this is doing to you. Has done to you.”