The king stepped closer, now just a few paces away from him. His presence alone was enough to make his guards step back.
- "Tell me, Ygdrasyle. How could Mordred have survived that? Did you, by any chance... omit a detail? Or lie to cover something up?"
Ygdrasyle met his gaze, calm. Too calm.
- "I deny any accusation, Your Majesty. I don't know what you saw, or thought you saw. But I maintain what I said: Mordred died that day. I swear it to you."
Ygdrasyle's words still hung in the air when Maélor made a simple hand gesture. Two guards from the black guard approached and flanked the agent.
- "Take him away. To an isolation cell. Not a word. No contact. And above all... keep him lucid," said the king, his voice icy.
Ygdrasyle lowered his eyes slightly, then calmly turned on his heels, escorted without violence toward the depths of the fortress. Soon, the heavy stone doors closed behind him, plunging him into absolute isolation.
