Marcus meets a few of his fellow prisoners

Lying on the wagon floor sobbing and twitching as it carried him away from his home didn't make Marcus feel any better. It still took a long time before he could find the strength to wriggle back up onto his knees, difficult enough with his hands tied behind his back. His bleary, tear-filled gaze flickered over the faces of the others trapped here. As miserable as he was, it was clear he'd come off well at the hands of those awful women compared to some.

All the other boys and a couple of the girls too had obvious bruises on their faces or torn clothing. One brawny young man he knew as a groom from the stables was even slumped over **** against the bars, a thin stream of blood trickling down the side of his cheek. Marcus bit his lip, realizing that they'd probably at least tried to fight back and gotten slapped around for it. He hadn't even managed that much.

"You're the prince!" A voice gasped from behind him. He turned hurriedly and saw a brown-haired girl gawping at him from the other side of the cage. She was still wearing her tattered maid uniform, but the black and white dress had been ripped down the front and she was awkwardly bent over to cover her boobs. Even still, he could see how big and round they were, bulging out over the remains of her apron. Marcus blushed despite his awful situation, whimpering into the gag as he tried not to stare. He'd seen this girl a couple times before. One of the new maids, but he'd never realized just how busty she was.

"Holy shit, he really is." The boy beside her murmured. He was short and slender just like Marcus, with big eyes and girly lashes too, his blonde hair smooth and silky. His clothes though were grubby and stained with food. One of the kitchen staff. "Hey, um...your highness, come here, lean over towards my hands and I can get your gag off." He wriggled round so that his bound hands were in view. Understanding, the young prince nodded frantically. He lent all the way forward, moving the back of his head to where the kitchen boy could reach. Clumsy fingers worked at the knot for a few minutes, rubbing and pulling at his hair, before he felt the awful strap of leather fall from his lips at last.

Straightening back up, he worked his aching jaw. His lips were still covered in drool and he couldn't even use his arm to wipe it off no matter how much he struggled with the bonds round his wrists. Giving up, he turned back to the kitchen boy who'd freed his mouth.

"Thanks...um..." He blushed, a little embarrassed that he had no idea what this boy's name was. It wasn't his fault. There were so many staff in the castle.

"Josh." The kitchen boy explained. "That's my sister Polly." He pointed at the busty maid. "Hell, if they got you too, that means we've got to be rescued, right? The king won't stand for his son getting kidnapped!"

"Yeah!" Polly nodded vigorously. "He'll come save us all, right? With his big sword and horse and armor!" Her voice got rather high and breathy as she spoke about Marcus' father, a faint blush coloring her pale cheeks. There were murmurs from the other captives, a few sitting straighter with hope in their eyes. The young prince bit his lip uncertainly. Of course he knew the King would tear apart the entire country looking for him, but if that awful woman Kriss was right it wouldn't even matter. She seemed to think his Father would never find them, and she'd sounded so certain about it too.

"My Father...will come find me." He murmured, hoping to convince himself of that. Josh smiled happily, while Polly was practically jumping out her seat with delight, her big boobs bouncing. She looked like she was already dreaming of the King sweeping her off her feet, and Marcus didn't have the heart to tell her that wasn't going to happen even if they were rescued. His Father only loved his Mother, and the Queen was way prettier than just some maid, even one with big, perky boobs.

"Will he want us to fight them, the King I mean?" Another boy, one of the grooms asked from the other side of the cage. He was broad shouldered and black-haired, his bare arms bulging with muscle. "When they open the cage, we can all rush out. They won't be able to stop us."

"Don't be silly, Dennis." The girl sitting next to him snapped. She was wearing a silk dress, elegantly tailored with flowery patterns and her raven-colored hair was perfectly combed even after everything they'd all gone through. Marcus knew her name at least, Charity Lucania, the daughter of his Father's steward. She'd always been kind of mean and cold, but now she was huddled very close to the muscly groom she'd just snapped at, clinging to his arm with one of her bound hands. "They'll be expecting that." Charity continued, her voice a hushed murmur now. "You saw what happened when Lucas tried to fight them." She nodded to the **** groom slumped over in the corner. "We have to wait for the right moment, aim for escape instead of fighting. They can't be watching us all the time, and if even one of us can slip away, we can get help."

There were nods and murmurs of agreement from the other captives, and even Marcus felt a flicker of hope. Charity was right. It wouldn't matter if these awful people were taking them somewhere hidden. One of them had to be able to escape at some point, and if the King heard even a whisper of his son's whereabouts, he'd come riding down with a column of knights and kill all these awful people. It had to work, didn't it? Kriss and Jana might be the scariest women he'd ever met, but not even they could stop one person out of this many slipping from their clutches. He'd be looking for his chance and so would everyone else now!