The accusations came as a shock to Arin. Accused of treason against the realm, of plotting to overthrow the very monarchy he was a part of, Arin was given a sentence that seemed as unjust as it was severe: life imprisonment in the dreaded Ironwood Prison.
Althaeon's eyes narrowed. "I'm Althaeon, the Elf Prince."
Among these was a peculiar fellow, known simply as Sleepy-B. A human, by the name of Brandon, he was a gentle soul with a peculiar condition that made him appear perpetually sleepy. Despite this, Brandon was astute and had a keen sense of observation.
The guard’s vertical slit widened. A thin, oily mist leaked out. “You will.”
"Fears?" Arin echoed.
Could you clarify what you’d like me to do? For example:
Balthazar chuckled. "The Elf Prince, I presume? I've heard rumors about your arrival. You're quite the celebrity around here."
Althaeon scowled, but eventually got up to eat his meager dinner. As he sat on the edge of his cot, he couldn't help but wonder what the future held. Would he ever regain his title and position in society? Or was this the end of his life as he knew it?