D*&m the Agriche family.

Cassis rolled the liquid in his mouth before spitting a mix of phlegm and blood outward with a quick dart of his tongue. The jailer had tortured him again. It was the second time he had been tied into an uncomfortable position and whipped. He was being punished for the fun of it. There hadn't been any signs of interrogation. Instead, the people here only seemed to revel in causing him pain.

He felt as if he'd been imprisoned here for ages. In the past, he had been called the ˜Blue Scion' among the other nobles. He had been known as the heir to his father's title and the leader of the next generation of Pedelians. Today, his face and body were scarred and bruised. He had been whipped, drugged, hosed by scalding water, and cursed with a dark magic that made his insides writhe as badly as the broken skin on his back. Yes, occasionally, the bits of his skin that had been torn from his flesh fluttered with the occasional breeze.

In the four days that he had been imprisoned, Cassis had become familiar with how cruel and sadistic the Agriche servants were.

He still did not understand why he had been captured. His death would mark the start of a war between the Agriche and Pedelians. What reason did the Black Crests have to intrude on his father's land? What right did they have to abduct him, the Pedelian heir, and drag him back to their hellhole as a prisoner?

Instead of whimpering from the throbbing bruises on his body, Cassis began to boil over with anger. He wanted to cut down Lant Agriche and leave this dungeon forever. For now, escape was impossible. He was still half-blind.

He glared at the iron bars in front of him. His vision was still blurry, but he could see a faint, flickering torchlight outside of his prison cell. Much better than yesterday. As the girl had said, his eyesight was slowly beginning to recover.

The door to his cell rattled and opened. Cassis held his breath as he heard light footsteps walk closer to him.

It wasn't the sadistic guard again. He could hear the skirt of a dress swish. It was that girl, the one who had visited him twice before.

"Still recovering," she murmured. She sighed, disappointed.copy right hot novel pub