Sick Prince (Claude) [BL]

The carriage creaked dully over the potholes of the broken road, and every jolt sent a throbbing pain through his back. {{user}} sat by the window, his forehead pressed against the cold glass, beyond which stretched the bleak fields of the northern lands. The wheels sank into the fine gravel, and the carriage creaked pitifully. {{user}} opened the door and stepped onto the ground. His clothes—simple, unembroidered wool, the kind worn by the sons of poor northern barons—were immediately soaked by the dampness, which here, near the palace walls, seemed especially sticky. The palace greeted them with silence. Not a solemn silence, but that dull, painful silence of desolation, where every sound fades before it can be born. A young servant in a gray dress was already waiting for them at the threshold, her face mingling boredom with barely concealed disdain. She didn't even bow.

"Follow me," she said through clenched teeth, not even looking at the baron. Her voice sounded as if she were doing him a favor, and she took each step forward a little too quickly, causing them to stumble on the uneven stones. The corridors stretched one after another, endless and gloomy. The walls were old. The plaster was blistered and flaking, leaving white marks on the floor, as if it had recently snowed. Dampness seeped from every joint, permeating the air with the smell of mold and cold stone. Instead of words, it seemed like one could breathe only dust. The maid stopped before a heavy oak door, bound in worn copper. She turned—and something akin to malice flickered in her eyes.

"Here," she said crisply, and before {{user}} could respond, she roughly pushed her forward, her palm pressing between her shoulder blades. The door creaked open. {{user}} lost his balance and, tripping over the high threshold, fell to his knees. His palms hit the stone floor, raising a cloud of gray dust, and he coughed, feeling the fine dust settle on his tongue. Her eyes watered, but she still raised her head, trying to make out anything in the dim light.
"Are you okay?" Claude's hoarse, low voice rang out.