Same ^^
It's been good! I've got some more house stuff to do later, but I'm having a chill morning right now.
It's been good! I've got some more house stuff to do later, but I'm having a chill morning right now.
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Does this mean we can call you abmin now?
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300 word minimum is pretty standard for casual level and up in my experience
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Just discovered Dog TV. My pitbull and I have a new shared hobby.
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Barbenheimer 2023
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There's a panhandler who hangs out on the street corner by our dispensary every afternoon with a sign that just says "Green 4 Green?" and tbh, I respect my boy's confidence.
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Bio
Personal Profile
Name: Taylor
Pronouns: They/them
Age: Mid 20s
Relationship: Married (happily, I might add)
Time Zone: Arizona (we hate daylight savings, so it's MST year-round)
Writing History: I've been on a number of different roleplaying websites for over a decade and a half
Hobbies: Writing, fitness, driving/exploring, hiking, camping, traveling, tabletop games, anything NEW (I love trying things I've never done before)
Roleplayer Profile
Format: 1x1s only. Maybe I'll try a group RP again someday, but I've never had one last longer than a few months
Posting Speed: Depending on my schedule, I can usually post at least once per week
Favorite Genres: Modern, Historical, Romance, Action/Adventure, Horror/Dark, Fantasy, Slice of Life, Dystopian, can be convinced to write some Sci-Fi
Hard 'no's: Fandoms. Sorry, but I can't maintain interest in characters/worlds I didn't build with my partner
Template: Public threads or PMs. I prefer to keep all my RPs in one place, so no emails or G-docs or the like
Rating: Comfortable with 18+ content, but it's not a necessity and I prefer not to center a plot around explicit scenes
Level: Advanced. Will consistently provide around 400-700 words per post, but can occasionally leap to 2000+
Character preference: One main character, but large side casts are greatly enjoyed. Because I write long posts, I prefer not to double
Gender preference: Male. You'll be hard pressed to convince me to play a female that isn't a background character. It's just not my forte
Romantic Relationships: MxF or MxM (currently prefer MxM)
Character Images: Faceclaims or detailed descriptions only. I envision the characters like real people in my mind, so I can't take anime seriously
OOC chat: Yes please! I'm a total extrovert who loves to get to know the amazing minds behind my partners' characters
Most Recent Posts
As soon as Caspian was back inside the sanctuary of his bedroom, he gave Jay a call to let him know that he’d gotten the master key they needed. He had to keep his voice down low to make sure no one outside the room overheard him, but phoning his friend was safer than sending a text. He couldn’t leave any trails whatsoever that he was involved in breaking Iris out of the hospital, and he knew that even deleted messages could be recovered with the security team’s advanced software. By contrast, no one would know what they were talking about during a call unless they happened to be recorded while they were speaking.
Not long after he hung up the phone, a maid stopped by to bring him his dinner, as was becoming the new norm for him while he was avoiding his father. Atlas hadn’t tried to seek him out since the appointment with Dr. Foster, but he didn’t want to risk running into the king in the kitchen. He still didn’t know what to say or do around him when tensions were still running high, so it was easier to become a temporary recluse for now and put off the inevitable conversation and/or argument they needed to have for later.
For the rest of the evening, he stayed put in his room, passing the time by absentmindedly scrolling through social media pages and skimming any articles or blogs that came up that looked interesting to him. Every hour or so, he took a few minutes to exercise his right hand, which was steadily regaining mobility as the Accuparacin mended his broken wrist and reduced the swelling. However, in the back of his mind, he never stopped thinking about the operation. He was restless with anticipation as the time to leave grew nearer, mentally reviewing the plan to make sure that he didn’t mess anything up when they got to the hospital. They were only going to have one shot to save Iris from being killed and prevent both of his friends from being arrested for trying to aid a criminal. The stakes had never been higher.
As the clock neared eight, he got up from his bed and went into his closet to change clothes. Since he’d been home for most of the day, he’d been dressed casually in sweats, but he needed to look like he was planning to spend the night out. He put on a polo and black jeans just as a maid came to the door to tell him that his friends had arrived to pick him up. “I’ll be out in a second,” he called to her as he pulled the top down over his torso. Earlier that day, he’d fed the staff and guards the lie that he was going to a bar with Jay and Miles. They had bought it, and since his pain level had improved greatly from the morning to the afternoon, they hadn’t tried to discourage him from going out.
Once he was dressed again and had put on a pair of shoes, he headed downstairs and out the front door, where his two friends were waiting in Jay’s sleek, black Oracle Gen II. At the sight of the luxury car, Cas had to bite back a smirk. He was glad that the car-enthusiast had finally bought himself a model that he’d wanted for a long time, but he was certain that the flashy car had another purpose too.
“Get in, stranger; we’re going clubbing!” Miles called, popping his head out the passenger-side window and grinning at him eagerly. Even from a distance, the prince could hear the heavy thump of the subwoofers as Jay turned up the music inside the vehicle. He rolled his eyes amusedly and climbed into the back, ducking down carefully and leaning his weight on his right foot to avoid straining his injured leg with the motion. As soon as he closed the butterfly door behind him, Jay peeled out of the courtyard and drove for the highway.
“Sweet ride,” Cas commented, raising his voice to a yell to be heard over the blaring music. Despite the seriousness of their reason for meeting that night, he couldn’t help the grin that had taken over his lips. For a moment, it almost felt like just another night out, as if they were really going to a club to drink and dance and lose their senses like they used to before he’d been taken by the Scourge.
“Thanks!” Jay called back. “I figured we could take the sexiest car I own, so everyone knows we’re at the club tonight.”
Cas nodded, having already guessed his friend’s idea. It was all for their alibi. They were going to make a noticeable entrance at one of the hottest bars near the center of the capital and park in a spot that was visible from the security cameras in the area. After going inside and spending about a half hour or so making sure plenty of people knew they were there, they would slip out the back and take Miles’ car—which had already been parked in the alley behind the club—to the hospital. Later during the night, they would go back to the club and “leave” together in Jay’s car, thus making it seem like they had been there the whole night.
“Did you bring the extra clothes?” he asked loudly. Another part of their plan was that they were going to change shirts and put on baseball caps to hide their faces from the cameras at the hospital, so it would be hard for anyone to recognize them.
“They’re in a duffle bag in my car,” Miles yelled back, flashing him a thumbs-up.
“Perfect,” Cas’s grin broadened. “Let’s go clubbing.”
Not long after he hung up the phone, a maid stopped by to bring him his dinner, as was becoming the new norm for him while he was avoiding his father. Atlas hadn’t tried to seek him out since the appointment with Dr. Foster, but he didn’t want to risk running into the king in the kitchen. He still didn’t know what to say or do around him when tensions were still running high, so it was easier to become a temporary recluse for now and put off the inevitable conversation and/or argument they needed to have for later.
For the rest of the evening, he stayed put in his room, passing the time by absentmindedly scrolling through social media pages and skimming any articles or blogs that came up that looked interesting to him. Every hour or so, he took a few minutes to exercise his right hand, which was steadily regaining mobility as the Accuparacin mended his broken wrist and reduced the swelling. However, in the back of his mind, he never stopped thinking about the operation. He was restless with anticipation as the time to leave grew nearer, mentally reviewing the plan to make sure that he didn’t mess anything up when they got to the hospital. They were only going to have one shot to save Iris from being killed and prevent both of his friends from being arrested for trying to aid a criminal. The stakes had never been higher.
As the clock neared eight, he got up from his bed and went into his closet to change clothes. Since he’d been home for most of the day, he’d been dressed casually in sweats, but he needed to look like he was planning to spend the night out. He put on a polo and black jeans just as a maid came to the door to tell him that his friends had arrived to pick him up. “I’ll be out in a second,” he called to her as he pulled the top down over his torso. Earlier that day, he’d fed the staff and guards the lie that he was going to a bar with Jay and Miles. They had bought it, and since his pain level had improved greatly from the morning to the afternoon, they hadn’t tried to discourage him from going out.
Once he was dressed again and had put on a pair of shoes, he headed downstairs and out the front door, where his two friends were waiting in Jay’s sleek, black Oracle Gen II. At the sight of the luxury car, Cas had to bite back a smirk. He was glad that the car-enthusiast had finally bought himself a model that he’d wanted for a long time, but he was certain that the flashy car had another purpose too.
“Get in, stranger; we’re going clubbing!” Miles called, popping his head out the passenger-side window and grinning at him eagerly. Even from a distance, the prince could hear the heavy thump of the subwoofers as Jay turned up the music inside the vehicle. He rolled his eyes amusedly and climbed into the back, ducking down carefully and leaning his weight on his right foot to avoid straining his injured leg with the motion. As soon as he closed the butterfly door behind him, Jay peeled out of the courtyard and drove for the highway.
“Sweet ride,” Cas commented, raising his voice to a yell to be heard over the blaring music. Despite the seriousness of their reason for meeting that night, he couldn’t help the grin that had taken over his lips. For a moment, it almost felt like just another night out, as if they were really going to a club to drink and dance and lose their senses like they used to before he’d been taken by the Scourge.
“Thanks!” Jay called back. “I figured we could take the sexiest car I own, so everyone knows we’re at the club tonight.”
Cas nodded, having already guessed his friend’s idea. It was all for their alibi. They were going to make a noticeable entrance at one of the hottest bars near the center of the capital and park in a spot that was visible from the security cameras in the area. After going inside and spending about a half hour or so making sure plenty of people knew they were there, they would slip out the back and take Miles’ car—which had already been parked in the alley behind the club—to the hospital. Later during the night, they would go back to the club and “leave” together in Jay’s car, thus making it seem like they had been there the whole night.
“Did you bring the extra clothes?” he asked loudly. Another part of their plan was that they were going to change shirts and put on baseball caps to hide their faces from the cameras at the hospital, so it would be hard for anyone to recognize them.
“They’re in a duffle bag in my car,” Miles yelled back, flashing him a thumbs-up.
“Perfect,” Cas’s grin broadened. “Let’s go clubbing.”
Sounds good! I'm excited for when Cas and his friends show up in Iris's room out of nowhere later haha
Hopefully that was worth the wait. I'm enjoying this part a lot cx
Feel free to have Matthew send people to prematurely collect Iris and get turned away if you want! Or whatever else you want to do while Iris is still there. I was going to skip ahead to when Cas meets up with the bois in my next post
Feel free to have Matthew send people to prematurely collect Iris and get turned away if you want! Or whatever else you want to do while Iris is still there. I was going to skip ahead to when Cas meets up with the bois in my next post
Cas didn’t know when he’d fallen asleep, but he knew he must have at some point after he’d eaten lunch, because the next thing he was aware of was waking up, sprawled haphazardly on his bed with his phone resting in his limp, outstretched hand. He stretched languidly and yawned, rolling onto his back and raising the device over his head to check the time. It was already after four in the afternoon. He blinked as he stared at the numbers displayed on the screen and rubbed his eyes. The medication he was on was definitely making him much drowsier than usual because it had been a long time since he’d last slept for over three hours in one nap.
Blearily, he peeled himself off the mattress and paced a bit in an attempt to clear his head. He only had about three more hours left before Jay and Miles were supposed to come back to his place, so he needed to wake up all the way. There were still a few things left that he needed to do before they headed to the hospital. At the thought, he swallowed apprehensively and checked the time again. He’d never been a dishonest person, but what he was about to do was going to require quite a bit of lying. To offset the preemptive guilt, he reminded himself that his friends were counting on him—that Iris was counting on him—and headed out the door.
He made his way downstairs and strode toward the hallway that would take him to Jacob’s office, mentally rehearsing the lines he was going to feed the guard when he got there. However, before he reached the door, he raised his brows in surprise as it opened from the inside, and Jacob stepped into the corridor. The other man closed it behind him and turned toward the prince, seeming just as surprised to see him as well. “Prince Caspian,” he bobbed his head in a curt bow, studying the royal bemusedly. “Do you need something from me?”
Cas began to shift his weight and then stopped abruptly, focusing hard on not giving himself away by acting agitated. “Um, yeah,” he started slowly. “I was going to ask if you could run a quick errand for me… Are you going somewhere?”
Jacob nodded, “I need to take a look at that faulty wiring in the garage and get an estimate for the repair cost to give to His Majesty. It’s been put on the backburner for far too long.” He paused and then frowned. “Why were you looking for me to run an errand for you? I’m sure there are plenty of servants who would be more than happy to make the trip. That’s their job.”
“I just needed something else from the pharmacy,” he lied, feeling warmth creep into his cheeks as he touched on the excuse he’d come up with to get the guard out of his office. “If you’re busy, don’t worry about it though.”
“What was it?” Jacob asked, seeming even more confused by his discomfort.
Cas groaned inwardly. Even though the reason he’d come up with was fake, it was still incredibly awkward to discuss. He’d thought up an embarrassing “affliction” to make sure that Jacob would run the errand personally, since it would be reasonable to believe that he wouldn’t want to get anyone else involved. If I’d known he was already going to be leaving when I got here, I wouldn’t have said anything, he thought dryly. Already in too deep to back out now, he replied, “I, uh, I was going to ask if you could pick up some suppositories… The medicine I’m on has been messing with my digestion.” The initial pink blush on his cheeks raged darker as he voiced the humiliating, made-up excuse.
“Oh,” Jacob cleared his throat. “I’m sure the servants would be discreet, but if you don’t want to tell any of them, I can make the trip after I’m done with the garage door.”
“No, that’s okay,” Cas held up his hands, still wishing he would have kept his mouth shut about the fake errand before he’d asked where the guard was going. “I’ll find someone else to do it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Completely,” the prince nodded quickly.
“Okay then,” Jacob started walking down the hall. As he grew nearer to the prince, he wavered briefly and patted him on the shoulder with one hand. “Good luck with that.”
“Thanks…” Cas grimaced, blushing furiously. He pretended to walk toward the other end of the hallway for a few seconds and then peered back over his shoulder, making sure the guard had passed out of sight before he doubled back for the abandoned office and slipped inside. As soon as he’d closed the door behind him, he leaned back against the wooden panel and pressed a hand over his face, taking a moment to wallow in the awkwardness of the exchange, and then shook his head. He still had a job to do, so he couldn’t waste too much time.
Quietly, he stepped away from the door and looked around the office. Jacob kept the room immaculately clean—no surprise there—so it didn’t take long before he spotted what he’d come there to find. On the right wall, there was a large, metal panel. Cas approached it and keyed the pin, hoping the guard used the same four-digit code for everything. Apparently he did, because as soon as the prince pressed the last number, there was a click and a whirr behind the plate, and it popped opened.
He smiled to himself and pulled the plate aside, looking over the contents he’d revealed. On the wall, there was a grid of hooks, each spaced a few centimeters apart and supporting an electronic key. It was the collection of master keys that the royal security team kept to have access to every major public building in the capital, one of which was going to be his pass into the back doors at the hospital. He quickly skimmed the labels that marked each key, only to find that even those were organized alphabetically. It really works to my advantage that Jacob is such a Type A personality, he thought amusedly as he located the master key for the hospital with ease and slipped it off its hook.
Carefully closing the panel and making sure it locked again, Cas stuffed the stolen key into his pocket and headed back out of the room. Now that he’d gotten what he’d come for, he just needed to get ready to meet up with Jay and Miles after dinner. Everything was going according to plan so far.
Blearily, he peeled himself off the mattress and paced a bit in an attempt to clear his head. He only had about three more hours left before Jay and Miles were supposed to come back to his place, so he needed to wake up all the way. There were still a few things left that he needed to do before they headed to the hospital. At the thought, he swallowed apprehensively and checked the time again. He’d never been a dishonest person, but what he was about to do was going to require quite a bit of lying. To offset the preemptive guilt, he reminded himself that his friends were counting on him—that Iris was counting on him—and headed out the door.
He made his way downstairs and strode toward the hallway that would take him to Jacob’s office, mentally rehearsing the lines he was going to feed the guard when he got there. However, before he reached the door, he raised his brows in surprise as it opened from the inside, and Jacob stepped into the corridor. The other man closed it behind him and turned toward the prince, seeming just as surprised to see him as well. “Prince Caspian,” he bobbed his head in a curt bow, studying the royal bemusedly. “Do you need something from me?”
Cas began to shift his weight and then stopped abruptly, focusing hard on not giving himself away by acting agitated. “Um, yeah,” he started slowly. “I was going to ask if you could run a quick errand for me… Are you going somewhere?”
Jacob nodded, “I need to take a look at that faulty wiring in the garage and get an estimate for the repair cost to give to His Majesty. It’s been put on the backburner for far too long.” He paused and then frowned. “Why were you looking for me to run an errand for you? I’m sure there are plenty of servants who would be more than happy to make the trip. That’s their job.”
“I just needed something else from the pharmacy,” he lied, feeling warmth creep into his cheeks as he touched on the excuse he’d come up with to get the guard out of his office. “If you’re busy, don’t worry about it though.”
“What was it?” Jacob asked, seeming even more confused by his discomfort.
Cas groaned inwardly. Even though the reason he’d come up with was fake, it was still incredibly awkward to discuss. He’d thought up an embarrassing “affliction” to make sure that Jacob would run the errand personally, since it would be reasonable to believe that he wouldn’t want to get anyone else involved. If I’d known he was already going to be leaving when I got here, I wouldn’t have said anything, he thought dryly. Already in too deep to back out now, he replied, “I, uh, I was going to ask if you could pick up some suppositories… The medicine I’m on has been messing with my digestion.” The initial pink blush on his cheeks raged darker as he voiced the humiliating, made-up excuse.
“Oh,” Jacob cleared his throat. “I’m sure the servants would be discreet, but if you don’t want to tell any of them, I can make the trip after I’m done with the garage door.”
“No, that’s okay,” Cas held up his hands, still wishing he would have kept his mouth shut about the fake errand before he’d asked where the guard was going. “I’ll find someone else to do it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Completely,” the prince nodded quickly.
“Okay then,” Jacob started walking down the hall. As he grew nearer to the prince, he wavered briefly and patted him on the shoulder with one hand. “Good luck with that.”
“Thanks…” Cas grimaced, blushing furiously. He pretended to walk toward the other end of the hallway for a few seconds and then peered back over his shoulder, making sure the guard had passed out of sight before he doubled back for the abandoned office and slipped inside. As soon as he’d closed the door behind him, he leaned back against the wooden panel and pressed a hand over his face, taking a moment to wallow in the awkwardness of the exchange, and then shook his head. He still had a job to do, so he couldn’t waste too much time.
Quietly, he stepped away from the door and looked around the office. Jacob kept the room immaculately clean—no surprise there—so it didn’t take long before he spotted what he’d come there to find. On the right wall, there was a large, metal panel. Cas approached it and keyed the pin, hoping the guard used the same four-digit code for everything. Apparently he did, because as soon as the prince pressed the last number, there was a click and a whirr behind the plate, and it popped opened.
He smiled to himself and pulled the plate aside, looking over the contents he’d revealed. On the wall, there was a grid of hooks, each spaced a few centimeters apart and supporting an electronic key. It was the collection of master keys that the royal security team kept to have access to every major public building in the capital, one of which was going to be his pass into the back doors at the hospital. He quickly skimmed the labels that marked each key, only to find that even those were organized alphabetically. It really works to my advantage that Jacob is such a Type A personality, he thought amusedly as he located the master key for the hospital with ease and slipped it off its hook.
Carefully closing the panel and making sure it locked again, Cas stuffed the stolen key into his pocket and headed back out of the room. Now that he’d gotten what he’d come for, he just needed to get ready to meet up with Jay and Miles after dinner. Everything was going according to plan so far.
I may or may not send Jacob back to the hospital. Depends on if I'm in the mood to write double POVs again xD
I've got a post started, but I had a bunch of house stuff to do today and then got really tired, so I'll finish it in the morning!
I've got a post started, but I had a bunch of house stuff to do today and then got really tired, so I'll finish it in the morning!
That's a cool idea. Atlas doesn't really leave the palace unless he has to because of his illness though, so he would be more focused on dealing with Cas, since he's also in the palace.
Jacob could always swing by to visit again or maybe Matthew would send soldiers to collect her (not knowing she isn't permitted to leave until the next morning)?
Jacob could always swing by to visit again or maybe Matthew would send soldiers to collect her (not knowing she isn't permitted to leave until the next morning)?
Yep, it was a heavy morning
I don't have anything else planned until later. I have one thing that Cas is gonna do before he leaves with his friends, but it wouldn't happen right away
I don't have anything else planned until later. I have one thing that Cas is gonna do before he leaves with his friends, but it wouldn't happen right away
I figured it'll be interesting if he has someone whispering in his ear that Iris isn't who she says she is for a while c:
“Your Majesty,” Dr. Foster rose from her seat and bowed to the king formally, gesturing to the now-open chair she’d just given up. “Please, sit. I think I’ve heard enough to make a diagnosis.”
“What happened to doctor-patient confidentiality?” Caspian muttered, folding his arms over his middle as he slouched in his chair. The question was rhetorical. He knew that the code of ethics that applied to normal doctor-patient relationships didn’t apply to him because he was the king’s son. His father had the right to know everything about everyone, so there was no information that could be withheld from him. In this case, his medical records and psychiatric evaluation were public knowledge to the monarch.
Ignoring the prince’s halfhearted protest, Atlas strode into the room with the assistance of his cane and took a seat in the chair across from his son. Both royals were still tense in each other’s presence, and they avoided eye contact with each other. Instead, the king turned toward the psychiatrist, who was now standing at the edge of the desk. “What are your thoughts? Has he been brainwashed by those anarchists?”
“‘Brainwashed’ isn’t a proper medical term, sire,” Dr. Foster corrected him gently. “But I do believe Prince Caspian has been psychologically afflicted by the trauma he’s endured. He’s expressed multiple symptoms of Stockholm Syndrome during the time I’ve spoken with him.”
Keep talking about me like I’m not even here, why don’t you? Cas thought sarcastically, averting his gaze while she conversed with his father. Part of him was tempted to try slipping out of the office while they discussed what was “wrong” with him. However, he couldn’t bring himself to walk away when he knew that he might need to defend himself against their baseless accusations, so he remained where he was.
“What is that, exactly?” Atlas asked, knitting his brows bemusedly.
“It’s a condition in which a victim identifies with his abuser and forms an emotional attachment with her,” the psychiatrist explained, reviewing her notes. “I noticed a few different signs of it in His Highness during the interview. For example, he holds one of his kidnappers, Iris Nox-Fleuret, in a positive regard and seems to have formed a bond with her in spite of the emotional abuse she put him through. He is also uncooperative with when it comes to holding her accountable for the crimes she’s committed, and he didn’t try to escape from her when he had multiple opportunities to do so.” She turned the page of her notebook. “A less common symptom I noticed was that he feels pity towards her and seems to genuinely believe she’s a victim as well. Overall, everything points to Stockholm Syndrome as the most likely culprit for the delusion.”
“I’m not delusional,” Cas snapped, unable to hold his tongue when they were treating him like an unstable mental patient. “And Iris wasn’t abusing me either. If she was on Regis and Ethan’s side, why would she have tried to run away with me? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“I have a theory,” Dr. Foster revealed, causing the prince to grow quiet in surprise.
“What is it?” Atlas prompted.
“I believe the Scourge’s goal wasn’t to kill Prince Caspian, but to alter his allegiance,” she stated confidently. “By abducting and tormenting him, they were intentionally pushing him toward one of their own members who would then persuade him to lose faith in the crown. They manipulated him into believing that she wasn’t a bad person by exposing him to ‘villains’ who were worse: Regis and Ethan. Once he’d seen just how cruel those two were, he would have viewed Iris as a beacon of hope, which would in turn draw him closer to her. She supposedly tried to help him escape, when in reality, she was taking time to grow the attachment he had formed with her, so he wouldn’t try to run away. In psychology, we call this a trauma bond, which comes about when a victim is isolated from others and exposed to intermittent good/bad behavior by an abuser.
“Anyway, this went on for a few days until she had successfully won his trust and had time to fill his head with doubts about the people he previously held close—”
“That would explain the outburst at the hospital,” Atlas interrupted with a nod of understanding.
“It would,” Dr. Foster agreed. “When he and Iris were ‘captured’ again, I believe it was the Scourge’s last move to solidify his bond with her by convincing him that they had both been tormented together, so that by the time she brought him to the border, he would be compelled to take her side and choose to further the rebellion’s cause rather than fight for the capital.”
“I see,” Atlas mused, gripping the arm of his chair in anger. “So, they’ve turned my own heir against me… Is there any way to reverse the damage?”
“Yes, but it may take a long time…”
As the psychiatrist went on to describe how she believed he was going to need years of intensive counseling, Caspian felt like he was in a daze. After listening her to describe such an elaborately wicked plan in depth, he couldn’t help but wonder if she was right. What if he really had been tricked while he’d been made into the rebels’ prisoner? Was his relationship with Iris just a figment of his deranged imagination? No. He shook his head, dragging his hand over his face as he tried to ground himself. I’m not going to let her get inside my head. I’m fine. I know I’m fine. She just thinks Iris is an enemy because she hasn’t met her for herself, but I know she would never do something so cruel.
“Very well,” Atlas heaved a sigh, standing up from his seat. “When can you come back to meet with him again?”
“I can schedule regular appointments for two hours every week at this time,” Dr. Foster said, glancing at the prince, who seemed to have fallen under a trance. “Until next week, please be patient with him, sire. He’s convinced himself that Iris is his ally, and his loyalty to her will run deep until he’s able to accept that she isn’t who she thinks she is.”
As the appointment was concluded, a guard escorted the psychiatrist out of the building, and Atlas returned to his private quarters, continuing to avoid speaking with his son. Cas didn’t mind the cold shoulder though. At the moment, he didn’t want to talk to the king either. Frustrated with his father’s decision to put him in therapy for a made-up reason and reminding himself of the all the moments he’d had with Iris that hadn’t been fake, he headed back to his bedroom to hide away for a few hours before he needed to get ready for the plan he’d made with Jay and Miles to rescue her.
“What happened to doctor-patient confidentiality?” Caspian muttered, folding his arms over his middle as he slouched in his chair. The question was rhetorical. He knew that the code of ethics that applied to normal doctor-patient relationships didn’t apply to him because he was the king’s son. His father had the right to know everything about everyone, so there was no information that could be withheld from him. In this case, his medical records and psychiatric evaluation were public knowledge to the monarch.
Ignoring the prince’s halfhearted protest, Atlas strode into the room with the assistance of his cane and took a seat in the chair across from his son. Both royals were still tense in each other’s presence, and they avoided eye contact with each other. Instead, the king turned toward the psychiatrist, who was now standing at the edge of the desk. “What are your thoughts? Has he been brainwashed by those anarchists?”
“‘Brainwashed’ isn’t a proper medical term, sire,” Dr. Foster corrected him gently. “But I do believe Prince Caspian has been psychologically afflicted by the trauma he’s endured. He’s expressed multiple symptoms of Stockholm Syndrome during the time I’ve spoken with him.”
Keep talking about me like I’m not even here, why don’t you? Cas thought sarcastically, averting his gaze while she conversed with his father. Part of him was tempted to try slipping out of the office while they discussed what was “wrong” with him. However, he couldn’t bring himself to walk away when he knew that he might need to defend himself against their baseless accusations, so he remained where he was.
“What is that, exactly?” Atlas asked, knitting his brows bemusedly.
“It’s a condition in which a victim identifies with his abuser and forms an emotional attachment with her,” the psychiatrist explained, reviewing her notes. “I noticed a few different signs of it in His Highness during the interview. For example, he holds one of his kidnappers, Iris Nox-Fleuret, in a positive regard and seems to have formed a bond with her in spite of the emotional abuse she put him through. He is also uncooperative with when it comes to holding her accountable for the crimes she’s committed, and he didn’t try to escape from her when he had multiple opportunities to do so.” She turned the page of her notebook. “A less common symptom I noticed was that he feels pity towards her and seems to genuinely believe she’s a victim as well. Overall, everything points to Stockholm Syndrome as the most likely culprit for the delusion.”
“I’m not delusional,” Cas snapped, unable to hold his tongue when they were treating him like an unstable mental patient. “And Iris wasn’t abusing me either. If she was on Regis and Ethan’s side, why would she have tried to run away with me? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“I have a theory,” Dr. Foster revealed, causing the prince to grow quiet in surprise.
“What is it?” Atlas prompted.
“I believe the Scourge’s goal wasn’t to kill Prince Caspian, but to alter his allegiance,” she stated confidently. “By abducting and tormenting him, they were intentionally pushing him toward one of their own members who would then persuade him to lose faith in the crown. They manipulated him into believing that she wasn’t a bad person by exposing him to ‘villains’ who were worse: Regis and Ethan. Once he’d seen just how cruel those two were, he would have viewed Iris as a beacon of hope, which would in turn draw him closer to her. She supposedly tried to help him escape, when in reality, she was taking time to grow the attachment he had formed with her, so he wouldn’t try to run away. In psychology, we call this a trauma bond, which comes about when a victim is isolated from others and exposed to intermittent good/bad behavior by an abuser.
“Anyway, this went on for a few days until she had successfully won his trust and had time to fill his head with doubts about the people he previously held close—”
“That would explain the outburst at the hospital,” Atlas interrupted with a nod of understanding.
“It would,” Dr. Foster agreed. “When he and Iris were ‘captured’ again, I believe it was the Scourge’s last move to solidify his bond with her by convincing him that they had both been tormented together, so that by the time she brought him to the border, he would be compelled to take her side and choose to further the rebellion’s cause rather than fight for the capital.”
“I see,” Atlas mused, gripping the arm of his chair in anger. “So, they’ve turned my own heir against me… Is there any way to reverse the damage?”
“Yes, but it may take a long time…”
As the psychiatrist went on to describe how she believed he was going to need years of intensive counseling, Caspian felt like he was in a daze. After listening her to describe such an elaborately wicked plan in depth, he couldn’t help but wonder if she was right. What if he really had been tricked while he’d been made into the rebels’ prisoner? Was his relationship with Iris just a figment of his deranged imagination? No. He shook his head, dragging his hand over his face as he tried to ground himself. I’m not going to let her get inside my head. I’m fine. I know I’m fine. She just thinks Iris is an enemy because she hasn’t met her for herself, but I know she would never do something so cruel.
“Very well,” Atlas heaved a sigh, standing up from his seat. “When can you come back to meet with him again?”
“I can schedule regular appointments for two hours every week at this time,” Dr. Foster said, glancing at the prince, who seemed to have fallen under a trance. “Until next week, please be patient with him, sire. He’s convinced himself that Iris is his ally, and his loyalty to her will run deep until he’s able to accept that she isn’t who she thinks she is.”
As the appointment was concluded, a guard escorted the psychiatrist out of the building, and Atlas returned to his private quarters, continuing to avoid speaking with his son. Cas didn’t mind the cold shoulder though. At the moment, he didn’t want to talk to the king either. Frustrated with his father’s decision to put him in therapy for a made-up reason and reminding himself of the all the moments he’d had with Iris that hadn’t been fake, he headed back to his bedroom to hide away for a few hours before he needed to get ready for the plan he’d made with Jay and Miles to rescue her.
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