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Strange, Paskia thought, how she could be pleased to see someone so monstrous, someone she hated so much. But at least when Don visited her cell, she knew she would only have to endure questions. At least he didn’t beat her up like Malise did.
He wore a pale blue shirt, freshly laundered, and was once again clean-shaven. Paskia caught a waft of sharp after-shave as he signalled to the warrior.
The door closed. Don leaned against the wall, watching Paskia.
She sat up, doing her best to ignore the deep aches.
“What do you intend to do with me?” she asked.
He tilted his head. “And that’s how you start a conversation with an old colleague, is it? Oh, so sad to see how the districts have removed your good manners”
“Says the one who has me beaten and incarcerated.”
He nodded.
