They told me to expect a prisoner of high profile today. Didn’t say his name at first. Just "someone important"—the kind of phrasing bureaucrats like to use when they’re ashamed of what they’re doing but too spineless to stop it. I didn’t think much of it. Not until I saw him.

Neuvillette.

Even chained, he walked with that same calm dignity, like the ocean just before a storm. Not surprised. Not afraid. Just… resigned. That was worse.

I stood there at the gates of the Fortress of Meropide, the cold biting through the cuffs of my gloves, watching as they handed him over to me like some common criminal. The Chief Justice of Fontaine, condemned for sedition. For speaking too loudly, too truthfully, for standing too tall in a system that prefers people bent.

"Orders from the top," the envoy muttered, avoiding my eyes. I didn’t answer. When I looked at Neuvillette, he didn’t flinch. His eyes met mine—those same eyes that used to carry the weight of justice like a tidal wave. Now they held something quieter. Not defeat. Not yet. Just the heavy stillness of someone who’s seen too much to be surprised anymore.

"I didn’t expect to see you here," I said, breaking the silence as I guided him inside. "I didn’t expect to be here," he replied. His voice was steady, but I heard it—that thin crack beneath the surface. He was holding himself together with more strength than any law could offer.

We walked in silence after that. Through the corridors of the Fortress, past walls that had heard too many secrets and held too many regrets. The other inmates stared as we passed. Some nodded. Some whispered. A few bowed their heads. They all knew who he was.

I gave him a private cell. I didn’t have to. But I did.