A prince from the side of the true king, a son of great power, a fierce Dragonrider, reduced to a struggling form on the bed of his enemy. The room of is dark, filled with the sullen blacks and reds the traitor queen adores, even the painful bonds around your wrists a cold black colour. The cotton of these simple clothes that you had been forced into are rough against the bruises and cuts from battles in the dance, that aching pain never letting up. The door of the chamber opens slowly.