He woke just as shitty as he thought he would be.
His eyes opened with himself on a bed, a comfortable bed. White blanket covering him and a pillow clearly filled with goose feather nestled comfortably below his head. The air around him was cold and crisp though the blanket was warm.
As he tried to shift, his limbs twitched in a violent, throbbing protest. His muscles felt like overextended bowstrings, frayed and ready to snap; he had pushed them far beyond the limits of human endurance, and now the bill had come due.
For a flickering second, he expected to see a certain blonde man leaning over him with a leering grin. Instead, he woke to a whirlwind of white tunics.
"He's awake!" a voice cried out "The Prince has returned!"
A cold hand clamped onto his wrist, fingers pressing firmly against his pulse, while another man clicked his fingers mere inches from Alpheo's nose, checking for the tracking of his pupils.
