closed for @needtosin
Two neighboring kingdoms. Two wicked kings. A war that had raged on for nearly three years. But things were coming to a head. It wasn’t the first time that Kyro’s army had managed to cross their borders bringing along death and destruction. But they’d never managed to get anywhere near the royal castle. Not until recently. After a siege that had lasted weeks, a couple of Kyro’s highly skilled soldiers had managed to slip between metaphorical cracks in the castle’s walls and capture the consort. Once Theo was acquired, there was no reason to stay. They’d gotten what they’d came for. Little was done to stop Kryo’s men once they had Theo; for fear of the potential harm they might inflict on the consort.
The journey back over the border took nearly a month. By the time they’d arrived at Kyro’s castle Theodore was significantly weakened. He was malnourished and exhausted. The ropes that bound his wrists were bloodied from prolonged friction. Perpetual confinement to the carriage left Theo feeling suffocated. And so, despite his fear, Theodore was simply glad to have made it there alive. After throwing a burlap sack over his head, Kyro’s men grabbed Theo forcibly by his arms and dragged him into the throne room where King Kyro waited, tossing the young consort at the King’s feet. Theo huffed when he hit the floor and let out a long and pitiful groan. All he could think about was how sick he felt. He just wanted to rest. To eat and drink. To have his hands back.
