A few hours later…
Drip, drip, drip
Down in a secluded cell, in the dungeon, laid Kenton, his face and body bruised. He had a long black metal chain that was chained to the floor locked around his ankle. A singular wooden plank large enough to fit one person was chained on the wall for a bed.
Cling, cling, cling, cling
Sounds of metal from the cell door opening filled the air as Ansel entered the cell holding a folder of documents alongside two castle guards
"We've tried for hours, but he won't tell us anything," A castle guard informed.
"No matter, I have all I need to know about him, so I don't need him to tell us anything at all," Ansel stated, his icy gaze narrowing in on Kenton.
"You know nothing about me or my life," Kenton growled, slowly getting up, sitting on his own knees, "You're just a good for nothing king who never gets his hands dirty."
