The Stubborn Prince
"You aren't going anywhere, Your Highness."
Donncahd's glare didn't seem to deter the medic. It never seemed to do anything to the man, yet the prince always tried.
"If you move from that spot and try to get up again I will have the guards tie you down. You are no use to your armies if you bleed to death." The medic was clearly fed up with the prince's attempts to leave the cot he'd been lying on.
The man seemed a little irritated, and perhaps even angry, but Donncahd's red eyes narrowed slightly, his lips pressed into a thin line. His hands gripped at his sheets tightly enough to make them crease in his fingers.
Rache, watching the interaction with her head propped on the edge of the cot she'd claimed, was starting to think that perhaps the prince had forgotten what the medic said.
Probably because he'd been allowed in a wheelchair he felt he was recovering and gaining ground. It was the best reason she had for his stubborn tantrum, but really...