Captured by the King

Chapter 7

Alexander was still sitting on the bed from when George had left him alone. He was free from all his restraints, aside from the door of the room being locked. But, he could move. He took a deep breath, looking at his hands.

Ok... This is good. I can write, if George left something for me to write with.

He gets up from the bed, walking over to the dresser and opening the drawers curiously. It was full of clean shirts and pants, and oddly enough, his clean American army uniform.

Probably kept it to make uniforms for spies...

He shut the drawer, opening everything with a handle that he could find. Clothes, perfumes, colognes, silverware, towels, everything but something to write with. He sighs, opening a final drawer on a desk. His heart fluttered in his chest as he saw a quill. But nothing to carve it into a useable nib, and no paper.

Damnit... of course he wouldn't have that in here.

He sighs, leaning against the wall idly. Nothing was going his way, aside from George slowly trusting him more and more. He wasn't sure if he would be able to escape England at this point. It would be impossible to escape in daylight for certain. Much less in his particular attire, a fancy shirt and silk pants.

I need a British army uniform at the very least.

His thoughts snapped back to reality as he heard footsteps down the hall. He shut the drawers as quickly and quietly as he could, leaving a couple open. George walked into the room carrying something new, an entire tray of food, chicken, roasted vegetables, and even a bit of caviar. As well as a glass of beer.
"Here we are! I thought you must be hungry." The king says with a smile. Alexander chuckles.
"Oh! Well yeah, I am a bit hungry." He admits, sitting down on the bed. George looked over at the open drawers with curiosity.
"What were you looking for?" He asks, setting the tray in Alex's lap.

Fuck.

Alexander sighs, scooping up some vegetables with his fork.
"Something to write with. I get bored, so writing is my go-to pastime." He says, taking a bite of his food.

Buy it... I mean- it isn't a lie. But still. Don't get suspicious.

"I see..." George says, folding his arms. Alexander takes another bite happily. George thinks for a moment.

Don't be suspicious.

"Hmm... Writing. I always found it tedious and pointless. Why write when I can have someone do it for me?" He asks. Alex chuckles.
"But isn't it satisfying to see a page full of writing? Especially your own. You get to think; wow, I wrote that. I did that." He explains.
"And putting your thoughts to paper is quite therapeutic, I recommend it." He says, swallowing. George nods in understanding.
"This is true. Very true." He sits down in a chair near the bed, gazing off into space, zoned out.

Well obviously it's true, I wouldn't have said it if it wasn't. Actually I lie all the time to this man- what the hell am I talking about?

Alexander kept eating his food, taking a sip of the beer. He grimaced.

Oh this tastes like piss...

            "Mm- The beer is... ah... not good." He coughs. The king frowns.
             "Oh? Sorry, I don't really drink beer, so I wasn't sure." He explains. Alex nods. After a few minutes, he finished his food, and set the tray aside.
              "That was very good! Well- aside from the beer..." He says, scratching at his back. The whip marks were still a little sore.