“I will speak to Domitia. Cornelia. They will bear witness to this,” I replied.

He stopped in the stairwell and looked up at me.

“She is right. I did not help her.”

“My prince,” I murmured. “Think. As things were, even if you knew what she endured, how would you have done that? You were but a crown prince. You could not spirit a king’s wife away, for what would befall you if you were caught? Where would this realm be if you were not as you are now?”

He listened to my words before he turned abruptly and resumed his descent of the stairs, stating, “We will speak of it later.”

I followed him quickly, my hand on the rope rail to guide my way as I looked behind me to Hera and Jasmine.

They appeared unhappy.

Mac, Ian and Nero, following them, looked much the same.

The march to his father’s cell was long. With Reginald at the lead, we walked along the clammy halls inside the curtain wall through one tower to the one at the opposite end of the island.

The short one.

And we did not ascend when we got there.

We descended.

The king’s chamber, however, was much the same as Horatia’s. Perhaps smaller, and there were no windows, but there was a fire and furnishings that made it comfortable.

As we entered, though, and I caught site of Gallienus, I saw the differences were striking.

Instantly, I wanted Horatia to see him.

Four days in a prison, she was vigorous, and her spirit had not been broken.

She was bitter, the woman who was once her long ago was gone.

But in the now, she had not been broken.

Four days, and Gallienus was wasting away.

I noted Cassius was just as surprised as I was.

“You must release me from this hell,” Gallienus demanded.

Cass turned, looking over my shoulder, presumably to Reginald.

“He does not leave this cell even when he can,” I heard Reginald respond to Cass’s unasked question as I continued to examine Cass’s father. “He is offered exercise, he does not take it. His food is plentiful, he does not eat it. Though he drinks much wine.”

“I have no appetite. Would you have an appetite if you were forced to live this nightmare?” Gallienus asked his son.

“This is hardly a nightmare, Father,” Cassius said slowly.

“Not to see the sky? I am the Sky King, and I am not allowed to see the sky?”

“You have the rights of an issue one prisoner,” Cassius told him, peaking my attention.

An issue one prisoner?

“When you actually are an issue five,” he carried on. “This means three opportunities each day for exercise out of doors. After breakfast, after luncheon and after supper.”

“I have no energy. My life is being sucked away by these four walls,” Gallienus retorted. “And I go nowhere with a guard.”

“All your life you’ve gone everywhere with a guard,” Cass reminded him.