"Guards," Lord Jethro called lazily, leaning back in his chair.
His tone carried no urgency, no strain, only a detached calm that made it all the more unsettling.
Two guards entered the room immediately, standing straight and attentive.
"I need three of you," he continued without looking at them.
One of the guards rushed out at once, clearly to summon another. Lord Jethro shifted his weight slightly and added, almost as an afterthought, "And have the dungeon prepared, they can stay in there before I decide what to do with them later."
Grey's father took an uncertain step forward, his composure finally breaking.
"My Lord… I am going in too?" he asked hesitantly, his voice tight. "It is clear now that my son did not do it. And I... I did not mean what I said to him that day. I was not thinking clearly. I was angry and confused. I was saying things that made no sense, I..."
