under her eye

Isla winces at that enough that she has to pretend, for a moment, that she has a small pebble in her shoe, and she sighs when she and the Prince finally pick up their pace once more. When you put it like that it does sound dire, she agrees. I suppose the only difference this time is that we would be keeping people out, rather than them trying to keep us in. A cage seems more like a house with a locked door, that way. But Wessex is right, and however she slices it, the decision could not be made alone regardless. Meandering closer, it's with a sense of unease that Isla realises that there are a lot of guards and dragoons about, and she hums her agreement to Wessex. This one doesn't seem so different, she agrees. The actual Needle has no door; an almost decorative structure, it stands like a shard of mirror reflecting back the faces of those who would be punished. All around it are cells and buildings, though, even if not as many appear to be in use as perhaps when the Order was around. ISLA pray for me pray to me