After forcefully beating Bastian Crowley, the captain of the Crown Prince's guards, Cael stood over him with a sword still clenched tightly in his hand. The room smelled faintly of iron from the blood that had already begun dripping onto the stone floor where Bastian was on one knee while breathing heavily with his face bruised and split in several places from the merciless blows he had endured.
Cael's expression, however, remained frighteningly calm yet anxious.
"Tell me," Cael said coldly as the tip of his sword pressed under Bastian's chin and forcing the man to raise his head. "Where is he?"
Hearing such emphasis, Bastian spat a mouthful of blood to the side before letting out a short, rough laugh.
Even in such a battered state, the captain of the guards did not look the least bit intimidated. His broad shoulders remained straight despite the pain and his eyes held the same stubborn yet respectful resolve that had earned him his position.
