This is coming too close. Much too close. Is his new title and the days he spent in chains... the sale on the auction block... is it true that these things are written in his eyes for Grantaire to now read?'

He places his hands in his lap, looking downwards. Under the table, he adjusts the cuffs on his again, making sure the bruises are hidden.

The gesture betrays him, however. The bending of his neck frees his shirt, exposing his neck. When he lifts his gaze again the faint glint of fresh skin, a healing wound, is subtle but there to see.

"The apocalypse of the barricades happen. This place happened. I don't know what else you want me to say."