The Prince, The Ruthless King

Throughout the whole morning, Victor continues to watch the clock on the wall, smoothly following a flow between watching the clock and reading mountains of paper work, until finally, when the clock hits 12 o'clock, Victor quickly stands up, throwing the papers in his hands onto his desk and ignoring Ron as he slips on a dark coat and fixes his collar.

"You aren't serious going where I think you are, right?" Ron asked.

Victor ignores him, shoving his hands in his thick pockets as he leaves his office and heads to the dungeon.

...

Victor stands in front of Venice's cell, mortified.

Chuck of vibrant blonde hair litter the cell's ground with streams of blood. There is a bloodied knife thrown to the opposite corner of where Venice hides himself, his buff shoulder's hunched and muscular arms covering his chest as his body is twist to face the cell's walls, yet his body, although he tries to hide it, shakes and quivers, like the degrees of temperature in the cell have decreased. Yet the blood Victor smells reminds his of expensive roses, of the finest wine the kingdom pours for its king every time they hold some fancy banquet, and Victor almost has to cover his nose, the sweet smell of the blood causing Victor to almost become nauseous. 

"Explain." Victor said, eyeing the guard next to him with angry eyes, "What did you do?"

"I simply punished the misbehaving inmate," the knight guard said, as if he's smirking through his tone, "I wanted to get confessions out of him, but he refuses to speak, acting cocky as-."

Victor doesn't know what comes over him, he really doesn't, but his body acts on his own, throwing the knight guard to his knees and shoving his foot on top of the man's head, pressing the knight guard's chin onto the dirty ground.

"Did I tell you to do such things?" Victor asked, surprised with how angry he sounded.

"N-no, Your Highness!" The guard said, shaking under Victor's foot, "I-I thought you'd be happy."

"I'm not." Victor hisses, pressing the guard's chin further into the ground. "Now open the cell and piss off. Do not let me see you until I've calmed down."

Victor lifts his foot off the knight guard, watching as the guard scurries to open the prison cell and hold the door open for Victor to slide in.

Victor slowly walks to Venice, standing next to his muscled back as Venice shakes, covering in the corner and holding himself. Something in Victor feels lost, sadden, angry--so many mixed emotions that he hasn't ever felt, yet here he is, feeling these ways for a foresaken man. 

"Look at me, Venice," Victor said, and he hears a slight shake in his own voice. "Look at me."

Venice pauses, taking a moment to slow his breathing, before he turns around, and Victor suddenly becomes even more angry.

That fucking guard cut off half of Venice's long, luscious hair, creating a curtain of uneven hair in length. There are open cuts on Venice's muscular arms, and bruises on Venice's neck and shoulders. His long, luscious blonde hair liters the ground around him, leaving half of his hair mid-length and the other half its usually long length. Venice keeps his green eyes on the ground, his dark, tan skin glistened in fresh blood and sweat and-Victor's veins fill with feelings of hot lava and desire, of something he cannot pinpoint, but it aches him. 

"Look at me Venice." Victor said again, his voice the softest he's heard it, "Look."

Venice finally looks up, and although he's big, buff, lean and handsome, he looks so helpless and in fear, and mixes of emotions creep up on Victor, but it isn't until there's a rough hand, yet soft touch, that caresses Victor's cheek. Victor looks down, surprised at Venice, who's eyeing Victor's swollen cheek with soft eyes. 

"Brielle often lands hard blows." Victor said, yet he feels his ears suddenly turn pink, "It is nothing." He said, gulping down the urge to cuff Venice hand, to kiss his palms, to-.

Venice turns away for a brief moment before he turns back to Victor, reaching back to Victor's cheek to pet it. Victor feels a coolness to his skin, and he realizes that Venice is patting Victor's swollen cheek with a cold cloth, holding the thin cloth to his cheek, yet Venice's hands shiver to the cold.

Victor eyes the knife forgotten in the other corner, gently moving Venice's hand away from his cheek to reach for the bloody knife. He picks up the weapon, rummaging in his pockets for his handkerchief to wipe the fresh blood of the knife. Victor clears his throat, throwing the hancherchief as far as he can to avoid the sweet smell.

"Ron," Victor said, lost in his task, "I will be here a bit longer than yesterday. You may take a break. I'll meet you in my study afterwards."

Ron opens his mouth to protest, but Victor looks up, giving him a raised eyebrow, as if to challenge him or to question him. Ron then rolls his eyes, waving Victor off as he huffs and heads to leave the dungeon. 

Victor walks back to Venice, who sees the knife in his hands, quickly backing up and holding his hands to his face, quivering again at the sight of the long knife. Victor clears his throat, raising his hands high.

"I will not hurt you," Victor said, "but I must cut your hair. You should not walk around--or jail around--with such a look."

Victor slowly creeps to where Venice is, plotting himself down and motioning the man to come closer. Venice, after much debate, slowly creeps closer, turning his back as Victor lifts the strains of long hair left to cut.

"I won't be long," Victor said, "Relax."

Venice nods his head, shutting his eyes closed as Victor begins to cut his hair. 

..

By the time Victor is done cutting Venice's hair mid-length, his curly golden locks reaching to the base of his neck, Victor gets up, dusting himself off and removing his long coat from off his shoulders, placing the long coat on Venice's broad shoulders. 

"I will be back tomorrow," Victor said, "So rest. No one will hurt you."

Victor turns his head, but a hand grabs his wrist, stopping him from moving forward. Victor looks down in surprise, watching Venice look up at him with a kind smile, which shakes Victor, causing him to gulp down his feelings. 

"If anything troubles you," Victor stutters out, "Let the guard know. I-I'll be off."

Victor rushes away, hurriedly rushing out the cell's door and out of the dungeon's quarters, a heavy flush of red adorning his pale cheeks.