—— SINCERELY , SIR HAMMERLOCK // @idlegore
“ HE’S MUCH TOO YOUNG FOR YOU , you know. “ he rasps between sips of water , desperate to be greedy but aware enough to exhibit some self control. it had been days since he’d properly eaten or drank - enough to keep him conscious , enough to keep him temporarily alive - and he knew better than to act with haste. it’d be no use to him if he made himself sick on it , after all , though it already felt as much , stomach cramping around the foreign concept bread and water had become. how many days had passed in the belly of the anvil ? how many had he forgotten in fugue-like stupor ?
the monotony of imprisonment had been broken with the invitation of parley. his sister had apparently invited him for tea , with the expectation that he heel and beg and tell her all she wanted , no doubt. wainwright’s inheritence was a mystery to all of them - no amount of torture or talk could get him to confess what he didn’t know.
that didn’t mean he was a fool. he’d lived a lifetime of manipulation at her hand ; he could stand another lecture if it meant a shower and a respite from his cell.
“ i didn’t think you knew the word compromise , sister , much less how to do so. settling for scraps suits you. “














