His voice softened as he asked, "Are you alright?"
Kaelith raised a trembling hand, gesturing toward him in reassurance. His voice was weak but steady enough. "Yes… I'm fine. You don't need to worry. It's probably just the damp air in this building—it must have gotten to me."
Leonhardt tilted his head, unconvinced, his eyes narrowing with curiosity.
"I see… or perhaps," he muttered, his tone carrying a sharp edge, "you don't want to torture them yourself. Do you want me to do it for you?"
Kaelith stared at him, his mind caught between confusion and indecision. He truly wasn't sure what he wanted. On one hand, the sight of his attackers tied up before him stirred no sense of pity. On the other, the idea of taking their punishment into his own hands twisted something deep inside him.
