Royal Blunder

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Royal Blunder

While Cade wanted me to sit in one place and do nothing, I couldn't. I had to help. I had to. But how?

A day and a half later, I was finally well enough to start moving about again, and the first thing that I attempted after having my lunch, this time delivered by a kitchen staff rather than Cade, was to try to leave the cell. The door wouldn't slide open for.

Dammit all to hell. They were keeping locked up, for real this time. Possibly to prevent me from causing any more trouble. I couldn't quite blame them after everything I'd tried to pull, although it was a dour thought that weighed heavily on me.

For the first time since I got that stupid note, I started to wonder if Schneider was perhaps innocent. After all, the note hadn't explicitly mentioned him as the one who set me up. Yet I'd jumped through conclusions that a rabbit on steroids leaping through hoops.

Maybe that was the intention of the mysterious figure all along.

Maybe they meant to instill a grain of doubt in me and have me act out in a way that would jeopardize Schneider's position as King of the Prison.

Maybe I'd been used as the perfect secret weapon.

That thought was enough to make me more distraught than anything I'd thought of so far. It was an alarming notion; that in my hastily-drawn verdicts, I'd foolishly bitten the hand that fed me (literally), and now Schneider was going to pay the ultimate price.

A pitifully selfish thought crept into my mind, no doubt brought on by the calculating, overly-logical lawyer inside me. If Schneider lost his position as King, I imagined his word would no longer hold as much power and sway as it did before. How long before he lost all power and influence completely and his protection of me became all but useless?

And how long after that would the guards wait to swoop in and finally get me?

Not long, I imagined. Not long at all.

"Fuck." It was a royal blunder, courtesy of moi.

****

Cade's P.O.V

"How many times are you going to watch that thing?" I questioned, already tired of the screen's unrelenting glare. Surreptitiously, I rubbed my eyes with a single hand a bit too vigorously until I'd done more damage than good.

"As long as it takes." Schneider responded, eyes fixed unwaveringly on the old monitors stacked on top of and next to each other.

I glanced at Schneider to see that he showed no signs of weariness like I did, his eyes pinned on the screen with a hundred percent focus. I envied him his sharpness of mind and soul.

Then again, Schneider was more determined than Cade in this. He was out for blood.

For the tenth time, we stood in the guards' room, watching the camera recording of the mysterious figure dropping the note hidden in the food tray that started all their current problems.

Among the constant overseeing of the drug and information operations, we didn't have time for this bullshit. But here we were, trying to figure out who poisoned Julian's mind against Schneider enough to make him act as recklessly and stupidly as he did.

While Julian recovered in the infirmary from the snake bite, Schneider brought me here on a suspicion which turned out to be more than accurate. Schneider said that Julian had been acting strangely before his attempted escape, which led him to believe that something had set him off. It took us less than five minutes to find out why.

As soon as we saw the mysterious figure which was dressed as neither the prison staff nor the prisoners, we went to search Julian's cell. We didn't find anything, but Schneider had the brilliant idea to search Julian's prison uniform.

The prison uniform which had been dumped on the beach when Julian went for a swim in the ocean, and then never returned to reclaim it.

Unfortunately for us, by the time Schneider and I went back to retrieve it, the tide had most likely claimed the article of clothing along with any hope of finding the note.

Schneider was left with no choice but to directly ask Julian what that note contained, something he seemed to be dreading. Because it meant he'd have that confrontation he'd been putting off for some reason.

Fuck, catching feeling for someone was hard. I was lucky such a thing hadn't happened to me. Yet.

"How is he?" I knew Schneider too well not to notice the concern hidden behind his shuttered expression, lacing his voice.

While he'd been unconscious in the infirmary, his friend had stayed by Julian's side the entire time, mostly to ensure Julian's safety in case any guards got any ideas. But it was also because Schneider had been worried sick. Ever since Julian's unfortunate assault that led to him killing that deranged bastard Kevin in self defense, Schneider had been tortured by raking guilt. He felt partially to blame for calling Julian here in the first place.

And no matter how many times I told him he wasn't to blame, Schneider didn't seem to want to believe me.

A part of me suspected he liked being Julian's protector and caretaker, because it gave him just the excuse to be near him.

"He's finally moving about." I told him matter-of-factly. On a daily basis, Schneider asked about his protectee and I updated him.

At that, Schneider switched to real time camera footage and zoomed in on Julian's cell. Sure enough, he was standing in front of the urinal, relieving himself with his back to the camera. For the last few days, Julian had to pee into a cup after adamantly refusing my uncomfortable offer to support him while he peed into the cell's urinal. I was immensely glad he did.

Schneider returned to the normal prison feed and turned around. I recognized that look; I'd seen it far too many times not to. It was finally time for Schneider to have his confrontation with Julian. 

*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

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