The iron door creaked open again, not long after Alistair and Sebastian had left, their footsteps still lingering like an echo in Lucian's mind. The clink of heavy boots followed, slower, firmer this time. Lucian didn't bother to raise his head. His body ached too much, and his soul… even more.
A familiar presence stood before him rough, authoritative, yet not cruel.
"Still breathing," the man said plainly, his voice gravel-thick, laced with a strange calmness. It was Commander Varek.
Lucian blinked through the fog of pain and sweat in his eyes.
"Can't say the same for your luck though," Varek added, bending slowly in front of Lucian's chained frame. "You've got everyone thinking you pushed the boy."
"I didn't." Lucian's voice came out cracked, barely audible. "I swear on everything, I didn't."
The commander looked at him for a long, unreadable moment. Not pity. Not belief either. Just silence.
"Listen," Varek finally said, voice quieter now, like a warning wrapped in concern. "I'm not here to beat the truth out of you. I've seen your type before. Smart. Too sharp for your own good. You speak clean, play clean... but stories like that don't hold long in this palace."
Lucian's jaw clenched, eyes darting to the chains biting into his wrists. His lips trembled, not from fear, but from frustration. "Then why are you here? To mock me too?"
Varek let out a dry breath that might have been a laugh. "If I wanted to mock you, I'd have brought the court jester. I'm here to tell you something the princes and general didn't: Confess."
Lucian's eyes widened in disbelief.
"You want me to lie? Say I did it?"
"I'm telling you to survive," Varek replied, rising slowly to his feet. "If Alistair comes back, he won't aim for your leg next time. And if General Sebastian joins him…" He trailed off, glancing at the walls, then at Lucian again. "You're not ready for what he brings."
Lucian shook his head, voice hollow. "I thought you were a knight. Aren't you supposed to seek justice, not convenience?"
Varek's jaw flexed. He walked toward the edge of the cell, letting his fingers trail across the rusted bars. "Justice?" he repeated. "This is a kingdom of grief. Grief doesn't care about justice. It wants noise. Blood. Closure even if it's false."
Lucian stared at him, the hopelessness slowly setting in.
"You're saying… even if I tell the truth, I'll die anyway."
"Maybe." Varek turned back to him. "But if you don't give them what they want, you'll die slowly."
He took a few steps back toward the door but paused. "Look, boy. Between you and me, I don't know what happened on that balcony. But those who loved Reniel? They don't want truth. They want someone to suffer and pay for it."
Lucian's throat tightened, something inside him collapsing further. "And you'll just stand by?"
Varek's eyes softened just slightly. "I'll do what I can. But I'm no prince. I'm just the hand that swings the sword when they give the order."
He knocked on the door twice, and a guard opened it.
"Rest, if you can," he muttered before stepping out. "Next time, it won't be me knocking. And trust me… you won't like who comes."
The door slammed shut.
Lucian was alone again.
This time, he didn't cry. He just stared blankly into the darkness, wondering how a story he didn't even write was crushing him one page at a time.