In unnatural sleep, Sonja's features soften almost as the cares of her life slip from them. Her hair is still somewhat twisted into a braid though many strands pull free to fray the ends and the pins holding the braids tight to her head have worked loose. Turned over by the Prince, she does not stir as he strokes her cheek nor when he speaks. Instead she lays limp almost like the dead.<br/><br/>The soft snick as the collar is locked into place, the blinding light, signals something deep within her body and her chest heaves ones, her back arching violently. Her body reacting naturally to the sudden ceasation of the flow of power through its limbs and very blood.<br/><br/>Then she is limp once more, her arms and legs dangling as he lifts and hands her body to the man.