Light
Once again, small beams of sunlight began to slip into Prince's prison cell, breaking through the tiny cracks in the stone walls. The floor beneath him was cold, and the air had a biting chill that made him shiver. The chains around his wrists clinked softly as he tried to adjust his position, the rough stone floor scraping against his skin.
Suddenly, the heavy chamber door creaked open, its sound echoing down the dark hallway. A group of soldiers, dressed in armor, stepped inside. They were armed with lances, swords, and bows, their faces serious. Leading them was a short man with an unusually long nose. He walked with a sense of self-importance, as if he were savoring every moment of this.
The man stopped in front of Prince's cell, rubbing his long nose with his fingers and clearing his throat dramatically.
"Ahem," he said, his voice nasally and obnoxious.
