When one is the rightful heir and the other wants everything just for himself. Josephine realised that she was caught in the middle of a succession war.
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Sitting on the floor in the corner of a darkened room, Prisoner D3, 10 stared into the gray darkness. He'd awoken to find himself there, in solitary confinement, no windows, no light, and the damned hood covering his face. He had yet to remove it.
What if someone opened the door? What if someone saw this face that he hated? This face that looked exactly like his brother's?
He wondered at the time. What was his brother doing now?
Surely he'd not carried through with the wedding ceremony. Of course, he had. His brother had always wanted everything—everything to which he wasn't entitled. He'd want the future duchess of Gloucester as well.
With a growl, Prisoner D3, 10 smashed his fist against the floor.
He can't have her! She belongs to me. Everything belongs to me!
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He got to his feet and began to pace. The voices of his ancestors were calling to him. He'd failed them.
He had to escape. He had to reclaim that which belonged to him.
Josephine
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Sunlight danced across her eyelids, only Josephine didn't want to awaken. She wanted to stay where she was. It was so comforting there. She felt safe, secure. And above all, cherished.
