"I would never-" the Prince paused, deciding that he wouldn't argue with his wife's logic. The last thing he wanted to do was get in an argument, he no longer had the strength to actually raise his voice. "I suppose your right" he added instead, after all, he would also need to get use to having someone else sharing his bed. While the bed was large enough for them to never actually touch, it was just the notion that Scarlet was there is what really affected him. Silently, he slips under the covers and places his head on the soft pillow, staring up at the cealing before quietly saying "Goodnight." To his wife, before again just staring at the cealing. This had nothing to do with Scarlet, he simply had trouble falling asleep. He was in a limbo state, he felt tired and yet his body simply wouldn't allow him to fall asleep. Yet he still tried, closing his eyes and letting his imagination run wild.<br/><br/>Perhaps an hour or so of this, and Alexander had finally fallen asleep. His near soundless breathing the only sign that he was actually experiencing pleasant dreams for once. This was the first time in a long while that he'd even had dreams, and it was an experience he'd missed. Though it didn't last quite as long as he'd wanted it to, as soon he was shooting upwards in bed, only a quick gasp for air could be heard. The Prince was sweat covered, though he already felt cold. Looking over, he watched Scarlet as she slept. At least she looked like she was having a peaceful night of sleep, he didn't want to interrupt. So, he slips out of bed and eventually finds his cane, then proceeding to walk toward the fireplace once again, reaching for the poker to stoke the flames once again.<br/><br/>As he busied himself with the fire, the slightest glimpse of a shiny metal caught his eye. His old armor, elegantly placed on its stand. The arms bent towards the middle of the body just enough to allow the gauntlets to rest on the hilt of his old sword. Alexander longed for the day he could once again take up his armor with pride, show not only the world his strength and glory, but to prove to his wife he was more then the week skeleton that he'd become. A sigh passes his lips as he carefully takes the sword into his hands once again. The blade was heavy, and yet he still rembered how to use it. This knowledge came in handy when the slight sound of a boot making contact with the stone floor was heard. It wasn't Scarlet, so when the Prince turned he attempted to swing his sword only to have it knocked from his hands by a mysterious intruder, and before the Prince could even let out a single word the intruders hands were clamped tight around Alexanders throat. Soon they were on the ground, the man was on top and his hands continued to keep the Prince silent, though he attempted to fight back. He just wasn't strong enough, and soon he was struggling to even breath as the man pulled out a syringe full of a green liquid, and was bringing it toward the Prince's neck.<br/><br/>In one last attempt to do something, anything to live, Alexander manages to knock his set of armor down, creating quite the racket. Yet the Prince did not know if this would work, and soon everything began to go dark. Perhaps this was it, he would be felled by an assassin, his wife only a few feet away. Perhaps it was better this way, he'd need not endure the final stages of his disease.