"I thought so."
Vedran turns around and says to the first soldier, who's still standing awkwardly in the tent with the two of you, "Watch him. I'll be back soon."
"Yes, Your Majesty," the man says with a slight bow.
The prince slips out of the tent, leaving you alone with this soldier.
Next
The young man watches as Vedran leaves, blowing out a breath of relief.
After making sure he's out of earshot, he shrugs and then strolls over to you. He examines you and says sympathetically, "Redeemer, Marshal… prince really did a number on ya, huh?"
"Sorry about that," he says. After a moment of hesitation, he adds, "Ya know, for the record… I actually kind of liked you as a commander."
You tug at your bonds gently. "You could prove that by… ya know, freeing me."
The soldier laughs good-naturedly. "Sorry, Marshal. Can't do that."
"Worth a shot, I guess," you reply.
The man sits himself down a few feet off to your left, gently leaning against the wall of the tent. You let your aching head hang. You're completely exhausted. The cudgel blow from last night aches horrifically. Your face is sticky with dried blood. Your lip is split, your face bruised. Your nose burns from the beating, blood still occasionally dripping from it.
Despite your wounds and unbeknownst to the soldier, you've been tugging at your bonds and loosening them for the entirety of the time you were speaking with Vedran. Your wrists burn. Your blood soaks the rope and the pole you're attached to.
As you test the strength of the bonds again, the bored young soldier calls out, "Hey… I got a set of cards on me. Gift from me father. I know ya ain't got… hands. But maybe we could try and play… somethin'? Pass the time?"