You were the prince of your kingdom, all was well, until you were captured by the enemy side.

They had chained you to the dirty iron bars of their dungeons.

You heard faint footsteps, and a man in thick, winter coats steps into view, "Hello, my pet." He says, amusement lining the carefully carved planes of his face.

"I will never be your pet!" You bite back.

He eyes the chain, "Mhm, you're hardly in the position to talk, Prince, I'm the one who has the high ground here."