NERON
show me how defenceless you really are
"You know very well what. Or who, rather." Neron murmured, his tone dropping in tandem with Loren's. The Warden was a former lawyer, after all, and he would not rise to a fight that did not seem to be presenting itself any longer. Not when there was nothing for him to gain in it. "Zariah Launceleyn is the head of the Launceleyn family. She is a master in the art of getting those beneath her under the thumb. I am - I was, rather - particularly susceptible to that form of punishment and reward."
He clenched his fists at his sides. "I would not be a puppet any longer. To anyone." Shrugging, Neron glanced away, an old and stiff awkwardness creeping upon him. "How was I supposed to ask, when I have never known how in the past?" he muttered. Both as bad as the other. How fitting. "It matters phenomenally, Loren. I'm sorry I wasn't able to be there for you. But I am here now."
He clenched his fists at his sides. "I would not be a puppet any longer. To anyone." Shrugging, Neron glanced away, an old and stiff awkwardness creeping upon him. "How was I supposed to ask, when I have never known how in the past?" he muttered. Both as bad as the other. How fitting. "It matters phenomenally, Loren. I'm sorry I wasn't able to be there for you. But I am here now."
