Caelith's hand paused ever so slightly.
She sat down across from Rhaegar, picked up the embroidery frame resting upon the table, and lowered her head to thread the needle.
"What was the sentence?"
"Execution after autumn ends." His voice was languid, almost casual, as though speaking of something insignificant. "Three months from now."
Caelith kept her gaze lowered as she guided the thread through the eye of the needle.
Her hands were perfectly steady. "And what did you uncover during the interrogation?"
"Nothing." Rhaegar opened his eyes and looked at her. "His mouth is dead sealed. Accomplices, surviving remnants, the events of those years—he refused to utter a single word. That trail is dead now."
Caelith did not look up. The needle pierced the silk rhythmically, one stitch after another, calm and measured.
"That is unfortunate," she said softly. "After investigating for so long..."
Rhaegar watched her quietly. "You seem rather concerned about him."
