Chapter 4

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King Owen and queen Alice were elated about the return of their son

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King Owen and queen Alice were elated about the return of their son. He was bathed, dressed, and fed. They sat together at the dining table after lunch.

"I thought I'll never see you again," the queen wiped her happy tears with a handkerchief.

"You're safe now, we have him locked up, he will be executed soon," the king said.

"Father, you're not listening, he saved me. Please, set him free, it won't happen again."

Queen Alice squeezed him into a tight embrace. "My poor child, he won't hurt you again, you're home now."

"He never hurt me once, please, he helped."

"It's okay, you need rest," she took Asher's hand and got up.

"My Lord, we'll leave first," the queen bowed.

"Of course," he said, then turned to Asher. "Rest well, son." 

Asher sneaked into the dungeon at night to see Tristan.

"Hey," he tiptoed on the damp stairs in his nightwear, the dark place lighted by a few torches.

Tristan turned, his hands locked in chains. "Hey, prince, what are you doing here?"

He hunkered. "Asher, not prince."

"Okay, Asher..."

"I have a plan, but I need to contact someone you trust, maybe your parents, siblings, or a friend?"

"My Dad, you can reach out to him."

"Okay, is he in the gang too?"

"Yes, he's the boss."

"Good, all I need now is your address."

Tristan paused like he was contemplating his decision.

"I promise not to hurt them, I'm trying to free you," Asher reassured.

"Okay, Asher, I trust you."

Asher smiled. "Thank you."

The prince sent his pet bird to deliver the letter. Asher met someone outside the castle walls— a huge man with curly black hair.

"A-Are you Darius, Tristan's Dad?" Asher swallowed hard.

The man bent his head, the scar on his right eye made him even more intimidating. "Yes, I am." a bass voice said.

"Don't let Tristan die, I know you're mad at him but you have to forgive him. I-I'll give you the ransom money. Please, save him." Asher begged.

"I just want my son back," he said.

"Oh... you're not taking the money?"

"If you insist," the man snatched the bag from the prince.

He stuffed it into the inner pocket of his black robe. "Why are you helping, do you like him?"

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