The hooded figure lingered before it pulled back its disguise: a worn and matured Prince Jon stared back at him, unseasonal shadows washing his face. Aldor hadn't been more relieved to see anyone in his life. He didn't need too much light to notice how haggard Jon had become.
“Jon, I—”
“Shut up—You've got a lot of explaining to do.”
The smile which had been partly forced anyway, faded from Aldor's face. “Jon… Where's Glen?”
Jon softened a bit, clutching the bars with gloved fingers. “She's okay. She's safe. I made sure she didn't get caught up in all the trouble you got yourself in. I owe her at least that… She's my friend, too.”
Aldor felt his shoulders slump up against the metal, resting his forehead against the bars. “Look, Jon, I don't know what your father told you, but I haven't
