It's true that Estinien lurching towards her has the guards watching from a distance, almost as if it's a spectator's sport. Why they haven't stopped him already isn't clear. Maybe they wanted an excuse to give him another beating or to string him up for the night, all in the name of stopping a fight between prisoners.

She is succeeding, despite everything, if only because it's hard to keep being aggressive towards someone who looks and behaves as she does. She looks like a child, no matter how powerful she had become, and so far all she's done is express concern for him. He feels the tug of the whip still lashes around his ankle, and glances warily back towards the soldiers, no muttering amongst themselves.

Another pang of humiliation going through his chest, he looks back towards the firepit and sits. He can't keep weakening himself with such futile rebellion, no matter how much it hurts him to obey his keepers like a dog. He knows what the alternatives are - he's been living them.

"...Tell me," he says, after a moment. "Are you the Meteion we met?"