( dead doesn't mean gone. sure, he has no evidence to offer, because he knows nothing about that snot-nosed count and his ultimate fate. because of him, everything... everything was ruined because of him. none of this would have happened in the first place. yes, it's so easy to blame lucio whether he's here to defend himself or not, but that doesn't seem to help matters much when it comes to holding his own head high. it hardly takes more than morga coming near and peering down at him for his whole house of cards to fold. he curls in on himself. he wilts under her gaze, doesn't meet her eye.

especially not after what she says. the pain on his face lasts much, much longer. he puts his hands over his face, shaking his head back and forth. )

I don't want to... please don't tell me. I don't want to know. About them. About anyone. So long as they're safe, so long as they can stay that way, I don't...

( does he actually not want to know? no, he does. about the apprentice, about asra and portia and mazelinka, nadia, her sisters, everyone, everything—but it's just not for him to know. good news or bad, he gave that all up. it hasn't changed just because his chains came loose. if anything it only makes him more determined to resist. to keep them safe.

julian's hands come away slowly from his face and he stares down at them. )

You assume...?