Far away, in the city, in a room underneath Miss Tillie's bar, the prince drifted in and out of a state of unconsciousness. From the outside it didn't seem as if he had severe injuries, a few cuts and bruises, but they were healing. But the healers being called in by Miss Tillie were at a loss, they were sure the prince suffered from internal injuries, but hadn't been able to locate them yet. Matthew had collapsed not five minutes after he was dropped off, with a fever rising to temperatures way beyond what was seen as normal. But, at times when he was awake, or sort of awake, he did take in food. It would be a very long and slow process, to get him healed. He mainly had to do it himself, his own body. Two maids were watching over him constantly, taking care of him, washing away most of the sweat. The room itself was cool enough. The prince knew nothing what was going on, he had similar nightmares to his twin-sister, of capturers and robbers, of a warlord killing their parents.<br/><br/>========================<br/><br/>Hood moved away from the girl as quickly as he could, his goal, waking her up, was completed, although with an outcome he hadn't expected. When she curled up in a ball, he looked at her with a questioning look. 'D'ye hon'stly think I'd take advantage of ye, girl? An inn'cent girl? Jus'gone through t'ordeal you bin through? Please, think''gain'. He could've thrown in her face that if it weren't for him she'd still be naked in the dungeon, but refrained from that. She could believe whatever she wanted, he knew his conscious was clear, that he hadn't done anything to the girl. 'Now't yer awake, girl, I want t'see, if ye can move. Ye'll have t'make do with t'cloak and some trousers that're here. I's go make a hot brew'.<br/><br/>Hood got up, put his boots back on his feet and his cloak around his body, but for now he left the hood down. He lit the fire again, putting a small kettle on the fire for water to boil. From the provisions he took a small sachet with brown powder, putting two spoons of it in the wooden jug. Once the water was boiled he poured it over the substance, walking to the girl on the bed. 'Here y'are, girl. Drink this, ye'll feel better'.  He started packing the left-over provisions, In a small container he poured the left over stew, for it to be reheated at a later stage and carefully put everything in a large bag he'd carry on his back.<br/><br/>'Get up, girl. W'need t'press on t'day, first we'll be walking to t'stream out back, for ye t'wash yersef. Ye're got t'do it yerself, t'walking. I cann't carry you t'whole time'.