The interrogation did not take long to become disturbingly compatible with a vampire ball.
The musicians started playing again.
That might have been the strangest detail.
While six werewolves remained suspended above a shallow pool of blood in the center of the hall, with crimson chains wrapped around their arms, legs, and torsos, a small orchestra resumed its performance as though the scene had simply been added to the evening's program.
Servants went back to circulating with glasses, nobles pulled their chairs closer for a better view, and some of the oldest Valentines began quietly betting on which prisoner would speak first.
Chysis looked especially comfortable.
She remained seated with one leg crossed while controlling hundreds of microscopic needles inside the werewolves' wounds.
Whenever one of them started losing consciousness, the needles moved, compressing blood vessels, stimulating nerves, and forcing the body to keep functioning.
It was not enough to kill them.
