The days that followed Kael's capture were a blur of pain and regret for Lise. Stripped of her rank, she was now a mere guard, her duties confined to the lowest levels of the fortress. Her once-proud demeanor was replaced by a haunting sorrow, her mind constantly replaying the events that had led to Kael's suffering.
Kael, too, had been punished severely. His defiance had earned him a place in the darkest, most isolated cell. The wounds from his beatings had left him weakened, but his spirit remained unbroken. Each day, Lise brought him food and tended to his injuries, their conversations limited to whispers in the darkness.
"Lise," Kael said one night, his voice barely a whisper, "I don't blame you. You tried to help me, and I failed."
Lise shook her head, her eyes filled with tears. "It's my fault, Kael. I should have known better. I put you in danger."
