"Slave." Lethervale snapped his fingers. "Come with me. I have a job for you in my office."

Arthur placed the helmet he had polished back on top of the suit of armor displayed in the hallway. He trudged after Lethervale. Exhaustion weighed on him, pulling his eyelids down. He had trouble getting up when the guards roused him in the mornings. He hadn't truly woken up in weeks.

Lethervale walked into his office. Arthur followed him. Lethervale shut the door behind him.

"You look tired." Lethervale sat at his desk, folding his hands together. "Do you not get enough rest?"

Arthur shook his head. He stared out of the window. He could just barely see the tops of trees. If only he could be among them. The leaves waving in a gentle breeze, birds chirping at the height of the day, Arthur's boots crunching through the leaves.

"How is the work?"

Arthur glared at Lethervale. How did he think the work was going? The order to strap him to the carts and treat him as a beast of burden had to have come from him.

Lethervale strode up to Arthur and backhanded him. "You are not worthy to look me in the eyes!"

Arthur curled his hands into fists. They could just…knock him about and if he tried to retaliate, he would be severely punished. "What do you need me to do, master?"

"One of the ladies of the court spilled the beads of her embroidery all over this floor." Lethervale handed him an empty wooden cup. "She needs them all back."

Arthur nodded. He knelt down, then stretched out on his stomach. He could just see the sun winking off of a thousand tiny scattered glass beads. He reached out for one, his hand shaking violently. His first few tries had the bead skittering out of his grasp, but by pressing his thumb to the bead, he was able to carry it with him on his skin and scrape it off on the cup's edge.

"If you could have anything you wanted, what would it be?" Lethervale stacked golden coins on top of each other to make a tall pile. "More riches? Fine wine? Sumptuous women?"

"Freedom," Arthur said. What else could he possibly want?

"Ah, of course." Lethervale reached for a quill pen. The back of his hand brushed the stack of gold coins. It collapsed, clattering to the top of the wooden desk. One rolled off the desk, across the stone floor, and fell over in front of Arthur.

Father's strong face gazed out at Arthur.

Arthur flushed cold. That was a Camelot coin. He picked it up, climbing to his feet. "You have Camelot coins." His voice was calm, too calm.

"Yes." Lethervale leaned back in his seat, picking up and dropping another stack of gold coins over and over. Clatter. Clatter. "You and your father have made me very rich."

Arthur shook. "You were paid the ransom." The ransom sat there, on the desk and likely in the desk, and here Arthur was, still slaving away for this monster.

"Well, I couldn't exactly let you go when you're making such progress, now could I?"

Arthur dove over the top of the desk and plowed his fists into Lethervale's face. His momentum carried them both to the floor. He grabbed Lethervale's collar to keep him steady and punched him in the face over and over and over. Blood sprang from his nose. "You liar! You said I would be ransomed! You said I would go home! I'm pushed around and beaten and enslaved and it's all for nothing! For nothing!"

"Guards!" Lethervale called. "Guards!"

"You're lying. You're a liar." Arthur shook Lethervale. "Why can't you just let me go home?" he shouted.

The door burst open. Several pairs of hands grabbed Arthur and hauled him away from Lethervale. He kicked and pulled at their hands but couldn't break their hold.

Lethervale climbed to his feet and wiped the blood from his face. "The slave has made an attempt on my life."

"Would you like us to schedule him for execution, sir? One of the guards asked.

Arthur drew in a sharp breath. Execution.

"No." A smile curved on Lethervale's face. "No, I think Arthur finally understands who he is now."

"You b—d!" Arthur fought futilely against the guards. His face was wet, but he wasn't sure when he'd started crying.

Lethervale strode up to Arthur. He stroked his cheek with his rough thumb, then drew pack and punched Arthur hard in the jaw.

Arthur sagged, agonizing pain snapping through his jaw. He tried to move it but had trouble. Broken, likely.

"You wish to be on high once more? Well, you shall. Take him to the cage," Lethervale ordered.

The guards dragged Arthur up to the highest tower. A curved cage hung from a pole that jutted from the tower. One guard picked up an iron hook and hauled the cage in.

Arthur scuffed his feet against the floor, but the guards dragged him forward and threw him in the cage. He picked himself up from the bars as they slammed the door. He rattled the door but froze when the guards picked the cage back up with the hook and hung it back on the pole.

Arthur wrapped his hands around the rough iron bars of the cage and leaned his forehead against them. The cage swung in the light breeze. Servants and slaves smaller than his hand wandered around the courtyard below.

He shuddered. He was far too high up and with no way to get out.

He gingerly felt his jaw. Yes, likely broken.

Beyond the castle was a small city, with the forest surrounding the city wall. Was Father somewhere out there? Did he even know where Arthur was? Even if he did, what could he do? Father could lead an army on the castle, but the moment Lethervale saw an army, he'd use Arthur to get them to back off or just straight up kill Arthur to keep him from freedom. Besides, with the well inside the castle walls, they could hold out during a siege for months. And Father gathering an army and supplies enough to lead a siege would take months, and then the marching here, then building siege engines, all while fending off skirmishes, not to mention by that time, winter would be here, and leading a war in winter was not tactically sound…

No, Father would probably cut his losses and start over. Marry some younger noblewoman, get a new heir. Better than plunging the entire kingdom into a war doomed to failure.

Tears sprang to Arthur's eyes but didn't fall. Unless some miracle happened, he was stuck here forever. Always pushed around, beaten, forced to do another's bidding, barely able to walk.

He curled up on the floor of the cage, pillowing his head on his arms.