Keiser stopped just short of the bars.
The others... Lenko, Tyron, Jim, and Jill... trailed close behind but couldn't quite bring themselves to step as near.
Their eyes kept flicking to the stairwell, every creak of torch-iron or drip of water making their shoulders stiffen. Even free, they looked like prisoners awaiting for the next trial.
But Keiser didn't glance back.
He stood only a breath away from the hand jutting lazily between the bars, the cold weight of the iron key dangling from his own fingers. The man inside watched its sway with a predator's patience.
At last, the broker raised his head, catching the light. Recognition sparked in his expression... his brows lifting, then lowering into a narrow-eyed amusement that glimmered despite the shadows.
"Well, well," he drawled, voice low and edged with mockery. "Seems one of the King's wayward children has managed to land himself in a pinch."
