Caelith's jaw clenched. He was used to protecting her, not standing aside. But her small figure radiated an earnest, almost stubborn light.
He shifted slightly, leaning against the wall, his injuries still evident. "Evelisse," he said softly, tone careful, "you keep speaking of answers. But where exactly do you intend to find them? In the dungeons?"
His words were polite, yet a faint incredulity edged them. "Those prisoners are condemned criminals. Even the guards whisper that they don't see the light of day once dragged there. Your brother who is skilled in this has interrogated them for weeks, and they have not given him a single name. What makes you believe you will succeed where he has failed?"
Evelisse tilted her head, lips curving into a lopsided grin. "Because unlike my brother, I don't waste time barking the same questions. I have my ways. And besides..." Her voice dropped lower, playful yet firm. "I already faced my fears once. I won't let them own me again."
