"Clementine? You mean the eldest of the Castile family, that Clementine?!"
The count, who had been wearing such a magnificent air of arrogance just moments before, now looked like he'd seen a ghost. He snapped the pipe in his hand clean in half.
"Damn it, damn it all! someone of that stature, here of all places? The Grand Inquisitor..."
He took a sharp breath, stamped his foot hard as if venting something, and crushed the head of the boy's father under his heel.
The man convulsed once, then stopped moving entirely.
The boy stared at the scene in front of him. The impact of it was too much, his mind simply gave out, and he crumpled to the floor.
The count had dropped all pretense of elegance, pacing back and forth across the room with no destination.
Then from beyond the edge of the candlelight, a clear, cold woman's voice cut through.
"Are you looking for me?"
