While being walked back to the cell, Miles gave a long groan. The last thing he wanted was to be put back into the cell. His eyes kept themselves busy, looking around the area until he found an opening. As if the Gods had granted him a last wish, Miles finally found one. The were two guards chatting leaving an exit completely open. He was in the middle of the group, meaning the guard and the front and back weren't very close to him. The calculations began to run through his head, trying to sort out wether or not he'd be able to make it, but Miles didn't want to wait. So he ran. He ran right to the exit, right to the doorway, before running into a large piece of armour, making him fall straight to the ground. Rubbing his head with a pained groan, he looked to see that all the guards were still in the places they had been when he had begun running. So who was it that he ran into...? Before he could look up at the person in front of him, he was pulled harshly off the ground, and forced to look at the man he'd run into in the face. The guard had no emotion on his face, unlike the others who seemed to only grin at Miles with cruelty.

"Prince Colin wishes to speak to you," the guard spoke before pulling Miles away.

He let out another string of curses on their way to the room. The guard seemed to pay him no mind though, as if he'd dealt with criminals like him before. Then again, he probably had. It wasn't uncommon for criminals to act the way Miles was, at least, from what he had seen. Hell, maybe those people were completely different in the face of authority. The thought set in that maybe Prince whats-his-name wanted to speak to Miles because he had recognized him. It was highly unlikely, but he couldn't help the fear that bubbled in his stomach.

He was quickly pushed into a room, a glorious room really, and the guard spoke, "Sir, I've brought the silver haired one for you," and with that the guard left. He was probably just standing outside the door though. After all, Miles was one of the criminals being trailed for murder, the guard would have to be an idiot to leave him alone with the oh-so-beloved Prince.

Miles stood there, his arms crossed, and not moving an inch. He stood where he was; simply a couple feet away from the door, and quite a bits away from the Prince who sat on the chair. He replaced the fear he had felt with anger and hatred. If this was the only way to show that he didn't care whatsoever, then he'd do it, despite the fact that he could basically feel his insides screaming at him to run and escape. He didn't say anything at first, but soon the quietness set it. "What do you want," he spat before adding a bitter, "Your Highness, or whatever."