"I… I'll let the mayor know you're on your way…" said the guard, his voice faltering at the end of the sentence.
Strax gave a slight nod, as if accepting a trivial favor.
"Do it."
Another man appeared soon after, unlike the usual guards. He wore more elaborate armor, a short cape draped over his shoulders, and the city's symbol emblazoned on his chest. A knight of the civic guard—someone accustomed to escorting nobles, not prisoners.
He glanced quickly at the warped bars, then at Strax… and decided not to comment.
"Follow me, please," he said, with tense formality.
The prison corridor receded. The rough stone walls gave way to wider, cleaner passageways, with dark carpets covering the floor and narrow stained-glass windows filtering the late afternoon light. It was clear that this wing was not for common criminals—it was the path between force and power.
Daniela walked with her hands clasped behind her head, looking around curiously.
