TW: Violence, crude language (cursing), abuse, and bloodshed.
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"Nevermind," The young bishop exhaled. He continued brushing Ines' hair for a couple of seconds before setting the comb down.
Because his back was turned, the bishop hadn't noticed how the Archduke's complexion had worsened, his expression dark.
"Your Excellency, where were you the night of the siren's assault?"
The Archduke scoffed like he had heard something absurd, "Naturally, I was on the deck just as you were."
"No, before that. You appeared mere minutes before the assault had ended."
No longer speaking, the Archduke tilted his head to the side and leaned against the wall. His eyes darkened as if warning the bishop of the consequences if he were to continue questioning him.
"Well." The young bishop laughed and stepped away from Ines' bedside, "I cannot force you to speak against your will, Your Excellency."
He patted Ines' face a couple of times before leaving, his steps calm and unhurried.
