A Ghost's Wish [MxM]

28. A Prisoner

Oliver rolled his eyes. "You can come with me if you like, but it probably won't be pleasant."

Draco pulled on the shirt and shrugged. "I don't mind."

They both left the room and were greeted by Sarah's gasp of surprise. She didn't expect the two men were together. She beamed but didn't comment, quickly leading them to the cellar.

It was cold in the cellar, and Oliver could see his breath in the crisp air, but he didn't feel uncomfortable. He glanced at Draco, but he was also unbothered.  Oliver had noticed that his hands and body always seemed hot like a furnace, which was probably how he adapted to living in the frozen lands of Rucrea. 

Draco's steps slowed as he heard a low moan, but Oliver seemed unperturbed. Instead, he sighed helplessly as he stopped in front of a wooden door.

A guard nodded toward Oliver, unlocked the door, and opened it for Oliver. He was surprised to see Sampson's condition.  He was a frail and emaciated figure chained to the wall. His hair had grown long and covered his face. His wrists and ankles were bloody and raw from the chains.

"You bastard." He croaked out. "You finally came."

Oliver leaned against a wall and looked at him with a complicated gaze. "I've been busy."

The man laughed hollowly. "How patronizing. You forgot about me."

Oliver was silent for a moment. Seeing Sampson tied up in a dungeon unnerved him. It brought up the memories of the long nights in Piers' tower before his execution. The roles had now been reversed as he looked down at the imprisoned figure, but he did feel any joy or empowerment because of it.  Instead, he felt disgusting.

"Maybe," he said quietly. "However, it was never my original intention to leave you here to rot."

"Prince Piers will look for me."

Oliver pushed off the wall and walked up to him. "Piers doesn't concern himself with cannon fodder. Besides, it's winter now, so he won't bother coming up north in the snow to find some soldier who failed his mission."

"You're an asshole," Sampson spat out.

Oliver sighed with a slight shake of his head. "You asked to see me." 

"I didn't think you'd come." Sampson's voice was laced with resentment. "I'm not going to live much longer, aren't I?"

"I content with having you live as a prisoner. I can remove your chains and ensure you have food and water. I can even provide some heat." Oliver offered.

"I don't need your pity, so why would you go that far?"

Oliver chuckled coldly. "You were after my head. I can assure you that you do not have my pity. I'm not a benevolent being. However, you pose no threat to me, so there is no need for me to kill you at this time."

Sampson remained quiet, refusing to answer. Oliver pursed his lips and figured that the conversation had become pointless. There was no need to continue, so he turned to leave the cell.  However, Sampson called out to him, stopping him in his tracks. 

"Why did the Crown Prince break the engagement?"

Oliver stopped, and his back was still facing Sampson. "Why ask this?"

"I haven't witnessed much, but I have seen how your men follow you blindly. I hate admitting that you know how to inspire and lead.  At the same time, you're cunning. You can plan a trap to kill my comrades and capture me. Even then, if the Crown Prince cannot appreciate you as an asset to the kingdom, he would want to keep you for your looks.  The Crown Prince has a habit of hoarding pretty things. So... why would he let you go?"