Plus, everyone seemed to pretend to be his friend or at least that he was OK, until something like this happens and then they suddenly acted like it was it's fine to treat him like garbage. No one even bothered to pay attention to what he was really doing most of the time, as long as it served them somehow.

Like right now.

“You've all, the nobles at least, grown up using magic. You can't figure out how to simply turn a device off?” Tor stared, a bit baffled. Wasn't it just obvious? “Really? Come on people! It's just a magic device… I didn't change it into something else for goodness sake. It’s a house not a prison.”

The King looked upset, probably with him, but if so, screw him. Holly was looking down at the ground, kicking at it. The other Counts all looked either angry or like they'd rather have been sleeping, which sounded like a good idea at the moment. A really good one in fact.

Opening up the first trunk he came to, a real one, not a field made to look real, Tor rearmed and shielded. It wasn't as good of a weapon, but he had the ones built into his shorts, as funny as that was. Just, from now on he wasn't letting anyone take him prisoner and if they tried he was fighting. To the death if it came to that. He looked at the King and didn't break eye contact.

“I mean it too. If you want me to do something, ask and I'll do it. Stand down and go live in the desert alone? Fine. Take a cutter to my neck and behead myself. Sure. But if anyone, King, Count or city guard tries to take me prisoner, I'll fight as hard as I can, until I can't any more. Because really, this stuff is getting old. I get treated like this and then you people come along and act like I'm the bad guy? Smythe tries to kill me over and again, I get snubbed and pushed around by Royal Guards almost as if it were a game to them and now the city guard personally turns me into their enemy? Fine…”