"WHAT HAVE WE got, Dorian?" Spade asked as he entered the cold, stone-walled dungeons.
He had changed into fresh bandages, patching himself up nicely as he had always done before. When he arrived in front of the jail cell that housed its newest prisoner, Spade wore a bright grin on his face, one that held more evil than joy.
"He's been unwilling to talk, Your Highness," Dorian replied, short and simple as always.
He took a step back away from the bars of the call to slightly bow in greeting. Then, from the side just out of reach, he carefully took the sword that had been placed against the wall, passing it over to Spade. The latter took it casually, unsheathing the blade. Under the dim lighting of the dungeons, the silver metal gleamed like a diamond under fierce light.
"Unfortunately," Spade replied.
