Kayla snuck past her oldest brother, Caleb, and darted to the garden's. She loved the way what was left of the flowers looked in the blue tint of the winter scenery. She heard yelling in the square, but was quickly pulled out of focus by one of the staff. "Did you hear who's coming tomorrow?" She whispered, a smile on her face. Kayla was confused. "Wait, who?" She asked, needing better details of who the woman was talking about. "The prince from the east, Timothy. Your mother is so excited about him, though i've heard....things about him" The woman spoke is a hushed tone, trying to avoid attention. "And-" The woman cut her sentence off as Caleb came furiously storming toward Kayla. "What the hell are you doing out here?!" He exclaimed, grabbing her arm. "Get the hell off me, Caleb!" She said, shoving him away. "I'm coming, god." She huffed, following him back inside

Kayla, once inside, was practically tossed into her room. "Put on something ladylike" Caleb demanded, shutting her door. "Jackass" She muttered, adding another thing to her 'unladylike' qualities. She cussed. A lot, especially when it came to her brothers. She put on a simple dress, denying any help from her personal maid, and left her hair in the braid down her back. She smirked, knowing Caleb hated when she wore he hair like that. "My lady, your brother-" The maid began, being silenced with a glare from Kayla

Kayla walked out of her room, a smirk on her face as she saw Caleb's reaction to her braid. She was tired of him wanting her to be perfect and just decided to make his life a little harder by being defiant and not the little meek sister he wanted. She strode past him, maids and servants bustling around to prepare for the prince's arrival the next morning. She went to the kitchen, escaping her brothers again, and chatted for a moment with the main chef. "Why is everyone so excited for this prince guy?" She asked the chef as he smiled at her. "You're going to be his wife." He stated, as though she had known. "What?!" Kayla yelled, bringing half the kitchen to a halt. She cleared her throat and nodded to the chef. "Excuse me" She muttered, walking out of the kitchens and storming up to Caleb. "Why are you giving me to that prince?" She demanded, furious. "My dear sister, so innocent. For an ally of course. Why else would someone ever agree to a trouble maker like you?" He said, serious.

"I won't go!" Kayla protested loudly, taking another step closer to Caleb. "You will, even if I need to drag you there" He growled, angry her stubborness had come up now. A couple maids looked at Kayla with pity, but knew they could do nothing to stop the young king. Kayla groaned and turned around, storming off so she didn't hit him. He was lucky her knives were well stashed away

Time passes slowly. The stillness of the cell becomes a strange companion to Gale, almost as if the walls themselves have absorbed the weight of his thoughts. His humming fades as he lets his mind wander, floating between memories and idle musings.

He shifts slightly, finding a more comfortable spot on the hard stone floor, his legs stretched out in front of him. The faint ache from the whip still lingers, but it no longer bothers him—it's just a part of the rhythm now, a background hum to match the one in his head. He leans his head against the wall, eyes half-closed, and for a moment, it's as if the world outside no longer exists. There’s just him, the cold stone, and the endless dance of shadows.

A soft chuckle escapes him as his thoughts drift to the events that led him here. Whips and chains… they think that’ll break me? His lips twitch into a smile, the quiet defiance evident in his expression.

Gale stretches his arms above his head, feeling the slight pull on his sore muscles. His mind flickers to the sound of footsteps outside the cell, but they don’t concern him. The guard would pass by, the world would continue, but here, in this moment, it’s just Gale. He’s become the master of his solitude.

With a deep breath, he exhales slowly, letting the air leave his lungs in a lazy sigh. He could fight, or he could let it all go, but for now, there’s no reason to. His eyes reopen and meet the flickering light from the window. A thought crosses his mind—maybe he’s starting to enjoy the quiet. It’s a strange thing, the kind of peace that comes from being alone with your own thoughts. A far cry from the chaos of the world outside.

The only sound in the room is the soft shuffle of his foot against the floor as he rhythmically taps it again, almost like he’s syncing with the pulse of the cell itself. The small vibrations under his skin are oddly comforting. There’s no hurry, no urgency.

Just Gale. Vibing. Waiting.

Kayla went outside into the public eye, walking to the gardens the long way and seeing a few guards raise eyebrows at her. She glares at them, tired of the skeptical and watching eyes from everyone. She'd grown up around it and lived with it until she just learned she could glare at them or state her title to make them look away. It was her only sense of power since her brothers held the rest