Capítulo 43: .
Three months had passed by, but in the prison, outside seemed to hold an eternal rain. The sky was always grey and cold, and raindrops were always drifting down like an eternal canopy. Not one visitor had come, other than one of the maids every day when delivering food. The guards stood right outside the entrances to the prison. And so, the inhabitants were free to converse about their issues or whatever else they felt like sharing, the storm outside encasing them in their private world.
However, as the other prisoners shared their stories and had a jolly laugh, Sebastian sat in the darkest corners of his cell.
He remembered the pain stabbing at his insides as he pleaded in the courtroom, only making his case feel worse.
Sebastian placed a hand on his stomach, but it was heavily wrapped in bandages that didn't allow him to feel or see the damage that had been inflicted. How would it have looked? he wondered, pushing away his looming thoughts.
His thoughts were broken by the sound of a creak and two pairs of footsteps rapidly approaching. The prisoners were all immediately silenced, hiding their cards and bottles of wine.
"Hey, maybe we can work something out –" a playful voice toned but was interrupted by the guard leading him to the cells.
"No."
"But that's no fun –" And he was interrupted again. Instead of words, however, there was a deafening clang as the door to Sebastian's cell was opened and a scraggly boy was thrown in.
"Next time, maybe just shut up," the guard said and looked both ways before holding up a finger. They quickly paced away and left the prison how it was before. Immediately, the prisoners pulled out their wine and cards again, the laughter starting up as if nothing had happened in the first place.
The new prisoner only lay still for a moment before realizing that he wasn't alone. A grin grew on his face as he leaped forward, pushing Sebastian harder against the wall he had already been lying against.
"Heeeeeey! Aren't you the crown prince?!" the prisoner squealed. Then, he sat back, crossing his legs and pulling out tarot cards. "Wanna get a reading? I can tell you how long it'll be 'till you get out of this place! The last person I checked only stayed two more decades! How nice, ain't it?!"
"Uh, I'd prefer not to get the tarot reading," Sebastian replied, looking down so that his hair would cover his face. "And, uh, I'm not the crown prince. I'm a pipe cleaner."
The prisoner couldn't catch a break. "Oooh, a pipe cleaner?! Haven't met one in ages. Have you heard? Towns are absolutely frothing for one right now!"
"Yes, I have. I was there just the other day," Sebastian said uncertainly. His hand clutched his stomach, which was starting to gain a sinking feeling in his stomach – well, if they hadn't been brutally crushed while there was a knife in there.
"You've got butterflies!" the prisoner gasped, suddenly excited. "Or are they worms? Hmm, I'd prefer butterflies. Wouldn't you?"
Sebastian's lip quivered, and he shrugged.
"Hey, do you want to get married?"
Sebastian jolted in surprise, nearly cursing as his stomach screamed. He stammered, "WHAT?!"
"Now that got'cha moving," the prisoner remarked, pleased with himself. "But, would you? I could do an astounding performance – flowers, juggling, balancing, even bottle-on-the-nose! I'd teach you how to spar, we could rob farms of eggs for breakfast and fry them in the sunshine, and maybe we could also –"
"No, no, no! I'm perfectly alright," Sebastian held a hand up. "Plus, I'm already engaged!"
"Really? Where's the ring?"
"Uh, I had to give it back. There was a fire and a break-in and such," Sebastian blabbed. Really, his memories of that day had become weary, like a dream or a story from his imagination. Why had he given it back, again? Did he just double-think his decision, or had he done it for some other reason? Was Lei already dead, or would her execution be taking place soon?
How many people had Sebastian killed simply by the idea of him?
The prisoner, getting bored, scooted beside Sebastian and similarly tucked his legs in. He placed his hands beside him, his fingers wiping lines on the dusty floor.
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