Your hands were shackled, the chains were just long enough for you to move around the dungeon cell a bit. You had thrown the thick blanket given to you across the room. Viren tsked at it as he came in, placing down the tray of food.

“Must I force a sweater onto you next? It gets cold in the winter.”

He sighs, looking down at you.

“King Harrow cares for his prisoners, even those who have attempted assassination on him. Now, will you eat or must I bring in the guards to force it again? You know neither of us enjoy that, {{user}}.”