sukikyoufu
Rapture
Knight 7
Red Schuhart
Damycles
Dion
shylarah
nachonachoJacob’s mind was reeling. From the moment he’d first recognized Prince Caspian on the computer screen to the ambulance ride to the hospital, he continued to grapple with the fact that Aspiria’s future king was still alive. He, along with everyone else in the capital, had been convinced that he was dead. Even Nox-Fleuret had confirmed it when he’d been under interrogation at the penitentiary. The leader of the rebellion had been under the influence of Aproveset at the time, so there had been no doubt in the soldiers’ minds that their prince was gone. Something must have happened that Regis hadn’t been aware of though. That was the only explanation he could think of for the false information they had received, since their truth serum was supposed to be foolproof.
Standing by the edge of the vehicle with a rail in his hand for balance, his eyes remained fixed on Caspian’s unconscious form while the paramedics cut away his tattered clothes to examine his injuries more thoroughly. He was impressed that the young royal had survived on his own and wondered how he’d managed to get back to the city. When he’d been awake, he had given the rebel girl credit for his rescue, but surely one woman couldn’t have saved him alone. Knowing that Caspian had a tendency of passing off commendation to others, he guessed he had more to do with his own escape than he would admit.
He listened quietly to the medical professionals as they analyzed the extent of his wounds. From his vantage point, he could see what they were discussing as well. The most concerning injury was the gunshot to his leg, poorly bandaged and still bleeding. The bullet was apparently still lodged somewhere close to his femur and would need to be surgically removed after they arrived at the hospital. They also pointed out his obviously broken wrist—apparently it would be an easier fix—and the mottled red patches and swelling on his chest that indicated another internal injury. The severity of the latter would be unknown until they had a chance to X-ray the area and determine how badly he was wounded.
Privately, Jacob suspected the prince was at least severely bruised, since he’d noticed how winded Caspian became every time he’d attempted to speak. Having bruised his own ribs before, he was familiar with the stabbing pain that stole ones breath away. However, he wasn’t an expert on the matter, so he kept his input to himself. No matter what had caused the discoloration, he was sure the medical professionals would diagnose it.
As the ambulance neared the hospital and began to descend toward the landing pad, Jacob heard the paramedics discussing a deep laceration in the prince’s arm that was potentially infected and would also need immediate treatment to prevent blood poisoning. He shook his head to himself, incredulous. It was no wonder Caspian had collapsed before he’d made it to the fence line. He’d been in poor shape, and it was a marvel that he’d managed to carry himself all the way back to the capital even with the help of the girl he’d supposedly been traveling with. It angered him that the rebels had beaten his future ruler nearly to death, and he was sure King Atlas would share the sentiment.
Caspian’s health aside, he was glad that he had good news to report to the current monarch. For the last few days, Atlas had been practically inconsolable over the “loss” of his son. He was eager to tell him that the prince was alive and that the paramedics believed he was stable enough to recover from the wounds that had been inflicted upon him while he’d been a prisoner of the rebellion. Once he made sure Caspian was taken into surgery without any issues, he planned to go to the palace straight away to relay the news.
The hovercraft touched down on the landing pad atop the building, and the paramedics draped a white sheet over the prince’s body before they transported him to the elevator. Word had already been sent ahead that the most talented surgeon in the facility would need to be prepared to receive him, ensuring that he would be given the best care Aspiria had to offer. Jacob jogged with them to the shaft and went along until they brought him to a set of double doors, through which he wasn’t permitted to pass.
Trusting that the physicians would handle things from here, the guard told them to alert him as soon as Prince Caspian was out of surgery and turned away to return to the palace. He called a taxi, having left his personal vehicle at the watch tower on the border, and pulled his com device from his belt to tap into the security team’s frequency during the drive. Right away, he was greeted with an excited hum of voices, to whom word had spread that the missing royal was alive. Guards and soldiers buzzed with questions, wanting to know where the prince was and what condition he’d arrived in. Apparently there was already a rumor circulating that the girl who’d come with him had been holding him hostage.
Jacob rolled his eyes and thumbed his fingerprint access, “This is Curry. The prince is currently undergoing surgery at the hospital but is in stable condition. Nothing about what happened to him or the woman who was with him has been confirmed yet, so please stop spreading misinformation until we find out more about the situation.”
Curry? This is Warden Walker, a voice replied over the device. We have the prisoner in our custody. Are there any further orders as to what should be done with her?
Jacob tapped his index finger against his thigh. At the moment, he didn’t have explicit permission from the king to dictate what should be done with the girl. He suspected Atlas would want to have her interrogated to find out more about the rebellion’s plot to abduct and kill the prince though. “Not yet,” he replied. “Has she been given water?”
No, sir.
“Give her some then,” Jacob dictated. “I have no idea when the last time was that she had a drink, and I don’t want her to die before any decisions are made about her fate.”
But sir, prisoners are more malleable when they’re dehydrated—
“I know that,” Jacob interrupted him impatiently. “But I don’t care. Nothing has been decided yet, so treat her like she’s going to be in our custody for a long time. She very well could be.”
A brief pause followed the order before Walker responded, Yes, sir.
“Good,” Jacob said curtly, letting the connection drop and turning toward the car window. Had it not been for Caspian’s insistence that the girl wasn’t an enemy, he wouldn’t have given a damn what the soldiers at the penitentiary did with her. However, he felt obligated to at least make sure she wasn’t left half-dead, since her wellbeing seemed important to the prince. Heaving a sigh, he leaned his shoulder against the side door, watching the city roll by on his way to speak to King Atlas.
Standing by the edge of the vehicle with a rail in his hand for balance, his eyes remained fixed on Caspian’s unconscious form while the paramedics cut away his tattered clothes to examine his injuries more thoroughly. He was impressed that the young royal had survived on his own and wondered how he’d managed to get back to the city. When he’d been awake, he had given the rebel girl credit for his rescue, but surely one woman couldn’t have saved him alone. Knowing that Caspian had a tendency of passing off commendation to others, he guessed he had more to do with his own escape than he would admit.
He listened quietly to the medical professionals as they analyzed the extent of his wounds. From his vantage point, he could see what they were discussing as well. The most concerning injury was the gunshot to his leg, poorly bandaged and still bleeding. The bullet was apparently still lodged somewhere close to his femur and would need to be surgically removed after they arrived at the hospital. They also pointed out his obviously broken wrist—apparently it would be an easier fix—and the mottled red patches and swelling on his chest that indicated another internal injury. The severity of the latter would be unknown until they had a chance to X-ray the area and determine how badly he was wounded.
Privately, Jacob suspected the prince was at least severely bruised, since he’d noticed how winded Caspian became every time he’d attempted to speak. Having bruised his own ribs before, he was familiar with the stabbing pain that stole ones breath away. However, he wasn’t an expert on the matter, so he kept his input to himself. No matter what had caused the discoloration, he was sure the medical professionals would diagnose it.
As the ambulance neared the hospital and began to descend toward the landing pad, Jacob heard the paramedics discussing a deep laceration in the prince’s arm that was potentially infected and would also need immediate treatment to prevent blood poisoning. He shook his head to himself, incredulous. It was no wonder Caspian had collapsed before he’d made it to the fence line. He’d been in poor shape, and it was a marvel that he’d managed to carry himself all the way back to the capital even with the help of the girl he’d supposedly been traveling with. It angered him that the rebels had beaten his future ruler nearly to death, and he was sure King Atlas would share the sentiment.
Caspian’s health aside, he was glad that he had good news to report to the current monarch. For the last few days, Atlas had been practically inconsolable over the “loss” of his son. He was eager to tell him that the prince was alive and that the paramedics believed he was stable enough to recover from the wounds that had been inflicted upon him while he’d been a prisoner of the rebellion. Once he made sure Caspian was taken into surgery without any issues, he planned to go to the palace straight away to relay the news.
The hovercraft touched down on the landing pad atop the building, and the paramedics draped a white sheet over the prince’s body before they transported him to the elevator. Word had already been sent ahead that the most talented surgeon in the facility would need to be prepared to receive him, ensuring that he would be given the best care Aspiria had to offer. Jacob jogged with them to the shaft and went along until they brought him to a set of double doors, through which he wasn’t permitted to pass.
Trusting that the physicians would handle things from here, the guard told them to alert him as soon as Prince Caspian was out of surgery and turned away to return to the palace. He called a taxi, having left his personal vehicle at the watch tower on the border, and pulled his com device from his belt to tap into the security team’s frequency during the drive. Right away, he was greeted with an excited hum of voices, to whom word had spread that the missing royal was alive. Guards and soldiers buzzed with questions, wanting to know where the prince was and what condition he’d arrived in. Apparently there was already a rumor circulating that the girl who’d come with him had been holding him hostage.
Jacob rolled his eyes and thumbed his fingerprint access, “This is Curry. The prince is currently undergoing surgery at the hospital but is in stable condition. Nothing about what happened to him or the woman who was with him has been confirmed yet, so please stop spreading misinformation until we find out more about the situation.”
Curry? This is Warden Walker, a voice replied over the device. We have the prisoner in our custody. Are there any further orders as to what should be done with her?
Jacob tapped his index finger against his thigh. At the moment, he didn’t have explicit permission from the king to dictate what should be done with the girl. He suspected Atlas would want to have her interrogated to find out more about the rebellion’s plot to abduct and kill the prince though. “Not yet,” he replied. “Has she been given water?”
No, sir.
“Give her some then,” Jacob dictated. “I have no idea when the last time was that she had a drink, and I don’t want her to die before any decisions are made about her fate.”
But sir, prisoners are more malleable when they’re dehydrated—
“I know that,” Jacob interrupted him impatiently. “But I don’t care. Nothing has been decided yet, so treat her like she’s going to be in our custody for a long time. She very well could be.”
A brief pause followed the order before Walker responded, Yes, sir.
“Good,” Jacob said curtly, letting the connection drop and turning toward the car window. Had it not been for Caspian’s insistence that the girl wasn’t an enemy, he wouldn’t have given a damn what the soldiers at the penitentiary did with her. However, he felt obligated to at least make sure she wasn’t left half-dead, since her wellbeing seemed important to the prince. Heaving a sigh, he leaned his shoulder against the side door, watching the city roll by on his way to speak to King Atlas.