ELIAS'S POV
The Count of Veremont was seated on a narrow bench within his cell. Or rather, slumped. His usually immaculate appearance had deteriorated into disarray. His hair hung loose, his coat wrinkled and unfastened at the collar. His hands trembled where they rested against his knees.
He was muttering.
Not loudly. But incessantly.
Cassian glanced at the guards. "Leave us."
They hesitated only long enough to ensure we were certain, then bowed again and withdrew, the heavy door closing behind them.
Cassian lifted his hand slightly and murmured a brief incantation. A faint ripple passed through the air, almost invisible, like heat above stone.
The sound in the corridor dulled instantly.
A wind barrier. Soundproof.
Now only the Count's muttering filled the space.
I stepped closer to the bars.
He did not look up.
"Count Veremont."
No response.
I crouched slightly so my gaze aligned with his.
"Who supplied the drug to you?"
