…The guards advanced through the hall with the poor man hanging between them, and this only worsened Damon's internal state.
Each step those three soldiers took, stumbling over each other as if they were carrying a drunken boar instead of a human being, was a new blow to his self-control.
And the worst part?
One of the guards spoke too loudly, clearly trying to impress the nobles around him:
"He tried to escape by jumping out the window! But I saw it first! Aha! I reacted immediately!"
The other added excitedly:
"He must be playing dead. Typical of cowards."
The third just dragged the poor fellow along with a "I want to go home" look on his face.
The waiter, completely passed out, swayed like an old rag.
Damon felt laughter rise in his throat like a murderous spasm.
Windows? He didn't even get near the windows, you imbecile. He only ran so he wouldn't vomit on someone important's boots. He had to discreetly press his fingers against his own thigh to catch his breath.
