The Rose's Thorn

Chapter Four

Vincent grabbed him by the wrist, dragging him down the hall after him. No further words were exchanged between the two as they headed towards the south wing of the castle. Nathan again struggled to keep up, his knees felt like they would buckle at any given moment, but he didn't verbalize any of his complaints.

Vincent paused in front of an oak door that had a golden plaque with his name etched into it. He opened the door with his free hand, shoving Nathan inside the room with him. Nathan stumbled slightly and the door slammed shut behind them. Vincent took a moment to lock and bolt the door.

They were alone, and that was a terrifying thought.

Nathan took a fearful step back from Vincent, who was still looking at him with death in his eyes. His knees shook, as did his hands. Beads of sweat had formed on his forehead.

"You are terrible at hiding your fear."' Vincent purred, taking a step closer to Nathan for every step he took back. After a couple of steps, Nathan bumped into a bedpost, and Vincent closed the distance between them. He was much, much closer than Nathan would have liked.

Vincent grabbed his wrists, pinning them against the bedpost above his head. Nathan's breathing became staggered again. He wasn't able to fight back, and he had no idea what Vincent was planning on doing to him. He was kept completely at Vincent's mercy.

"Are you afraid of me, Nathaniel?" Vincent murmured in his ear, slipping his knee between Nathan's legs to hold him in place. Nathan had no doubt that Vincent could feel them shaking.

After some hesitation, he nodded slightly. He didn't want to give him the satisfaction of a verbal response.

"Speak." Vincent growled. "I want to hear you say it." The grip on his wrists tightened immensely. He meant business.

Nathan met the eyes of his captor, feeling weaker than he had ever felt.

"I... I am absolutely terrified of you."

Vincent Ataven

August 2nd, 4:48 PM

"Smart choice." Vincent smirked down at Nathan, pulling his knee back and releasing his wrists. He watched as Nathan rubbed his wrists, looking down at the floor once more.

So shy. It was pathetic.

"Let's set a few ground rules, shall we?" Vincent moved away from Nathan, looking around his room. The bed was large and spacious, with a black curtain that could be pulled around the bed. On the right wall was a large wardrobe, an armor stand, and a fireplace. There was no fire burning just yet. To the left was a single door, and several locked cases of various weapons that were hung on the wall. He pulled off his gloves, laying them on the table next to the bed.

"Rule number one. Every time you try to escape, you lose a finger. Once you run out of fingers, I'll start taking toes." As he began to list the rules, Vincent doffed his armor, arranging it back on to the armor stand. His helmet was already there. The guard must have made it there before them.

"Rule number two. If you don't obey my orders, you will be punished severely. You will learn how to behave in my castle. And if you cannot, I'll lock you in the dungeon like an animal." Vincent made his way back over to Nathan, who was still leaning against the bedpost. "In exchange for your obedience, you will be fed and taken care of. No one will lay a hand on you. Do you understand?"

Nathan nodded.

Vincent slapped him roughly across the face. He winced. "You will speak when spoken to. Do. You. Understand?" Vincent arched an eyebrow at the small prince.

"Y-yes, I understand.." Nathan stumbled over his words, rubbing his elbow anxiously.

Vincent smirked. "Wonderful. You're such a quick learner." He praised Nathan in a teasing manner, placing a finger underneath his chin and tilting it upwards. He studied those emerald green eyes closely. He could see the fear in them.

"You and I, we are going to have such a fun time together." Vincent purred, patting the boy on the head. Nathan shrunk away from him. He looked like a rabbit about to be run over by a racehorse.

"I don't think my definition of fun is the same as yours..." Nathan whispered, sliding out from between Vincent and the bedpost. He crossed the room, moving over to the window. He fell silent again, staring off at whatever was outside.

Vincent watched him, silently observing for a moment. Nathan rocked back and forth on his feet, a dainty hand pressed against his cheek. He was as skittish as a mouse, and as fragile as a porcelain doll. Vincent's heart stirred.

He turned his head away, moving over to the door. He pushed it open, revealing another small room within his room. His own miniature dungeon. "Nathaniel. Come here." Vincent beckoned the prince closer with a jagged smile on his lips.

Nathan looked over at him with wide eyes, but he obediently trudged over to him nevertheless. One glance into the room, however, caused him to go pale in the face.

There was a metal bar running horizontally on the wall, with metal cuffs dangling down from it. There was a single candle that hung on the wall next to the door, burning dimly. It hardly illuminated the room.

Vincent placed a hand on the prince's back, shoving him farther into the small room. "Sit." He barked the order, and the frightened boy sat, his back against the wall.

Vincent knelt down, grabbing Nathan by the wrists, and pinning them above his head. He then attached the cuffs to his wrists, making sure they were as tight as possible. Nathan tugged at the cuffs, a sigh slipping from his lips. They gave him no leeway, and his arms were forced above his head.

Vincent knew it was uncomfortable. That was the point.

He straightened up, stepping back to the door of the room. He looked down at Nathan.

"Goodnight, my prince." Vincent spoke coldly, a dark smile growing on his lips.

He slammed the door shut with enough force to blow out the candle on the other side.