The dungeon was actually a small catacomb of an ancient empire which they had built over. Ever since open burials became the norm, places like it were abandoned. As such, many of the cells had an almost macabre design to them. Where once were coffins tucked into the walls were now beds. Where a stone table once used as a shrine to honour the dead was now a common table for the entire bunk cell which could house up to 12 prisoners. Ventilation came from newly dug skylights in the singular corridor and cells that led in cold air from the sky above. As it was night, no real rays beamed down, but in the afternoon, the skylight looked like pillars of light. For now though, the walls lined with cryst were what gave the rooms a neon glow. The air was light tinged with the scent of centuries of decomposed seither.

As Art and the Queen passed by each cell, a guard standing at attention between each occupied pair of containment saluted them. The sparse prisoners - mostly trespassers and the rare criminals awaiting judgement or pardon by the queen - curiously poke their heads out between the bars that served as a locked door to their cages.

Finally, they arrived at the final room, where unlike the others, there were no guards stationed or more than 1 captive within. Art made a gesture to the queen, insisting the knight were to go first.

‟You worry too much, Artria,” Gwen complained.

‟I insist,” Art insisted. ‟Outside of your private chambers and sole company, I will perform my duty to you, regardless of your wish.”

‟You know your duty is to your country, and not to me, right?” Gwen corrected and paused. In the interim, Art looked waiting, as if forcing herself to not answer that question. Eventually, Gwen sighed and gestured over-dramatically. ‟Very well, my Knight of the Round. Sally forth.”

‟You've returned. I wasss beginning to plan my essscape,” Lands Lord hissed from the shadows within. ‟But maybe I ssshould be planning my revenge?” Despite his words, there was no trace of malice in the lizardkin's voice.

‟Was that a threat?” Art scowled.

‟It wasss in jessst,” Lands corrected. ‟Though I would be lying if I were to say I harbour no dubiety after you had me thrown in here.”

She would be lying as well if said the feeling wasn't mutual. ‟If we are to proceed anywhere further, I will at least need your word that you will not be hostile.”

Lands Lord raised his hands, in chains. ‟I am cuffed in iron, caged in your prissson, and removed of my weapon. How much lessss hossstile do I need be?”

Like a dainty sprite, Gwen floated into the conversation. ‟He's right, Art. I doubt he can be any less threatening.”

Lands raised a brow at the newcomer. ‟And who might you be?”

Annoyed, Art instructed, ‟You're in the presence of the queen, show your respect.”

Lands slithered out into the dim cryst light and looked Gwen quickly up and down. The slit in his eyes narrowed, as if zooming in on its prey.

Then, he bowed, ‟You majesssty. It isss an honour to finally meet. I had only hoped it'd be under better circumstancesss.”

‟Indeed,” Queen Gwen replied. She motioned to the nearest guard down the hall. Despite his best effort hide it, the man had been watching the duo from the corner of his eyes. When he realized he was being called, the guard hurried over.

‟Yes, my queen?”

Gwen requested, ‟Hand me your keys.”

Stunned, the guard stammered out, ‟B-but...”

‟Do not worry. The knight commander will be with me. Have a little faith.”

The man looked between her and Art nervously, before taking a deep breath and unlatching the ring of keys from his belt. ‟It's the last key on your right.” He then handed the keyring to her.

‟Good. Make sure we are not disturbed. And no more eavesdropping.”

With a face red with shame, the guard bowed before stepping away. He proceeded back down the corridor, further than before, until he was with the next guard two cells down and out of earshot.

The queen moved to open the prison and Art reached out instinctively to stop Gwen. The queen gave the knight a brow that signified unwarranted worry. Nonetheless, the monarch gave Lands Lord a shooing gesture. The lizardkin complied, slinking away from the door, allowing her to open with a space between them. Art quickly stepped between the queen and Lands Lord, making sure she was always a wall between the lizard and her liege.

Lands raised his own brow at Art. ‟Am I wrong to think you placed me here out of need, not fear?” He watched as the knight stood, seemingly casual. But their mutual combat experience told him she had her guard up. ‟Or did you really cage me out of hate?”

Art did not answer. She had done her job, bringing him to her queen and her queen to him. She was no longer a diplomat, but a knight, protecting her queen.

‟Now then,” Gwen interrupted the silence. ‟I've heard from Artria why you are here. Is it true the lizardkins are alive?”

‟We are,” Lands confirmed. ‟And we would like to be reunited with the world.”

‟So I've heard,” Gwen answered, stoic. ‟It's not exactly a good time right now.”

‟So I've heard,” Lands repeated back. ‟However, I do not intend to return without sssome progressss.”

Gwen mused. ‟Is that so? I do not think you have much leverage to negotiate at this moment. Trapped in unfamiliar territory, far from your tribe, in the mercy of those who you need your future from. That's one heck of a negotiation tactic. Not only that, I doubt your tribe, shuttered away from the world these past two hundred years will have anything of value to offer.”

‟I am not negotiating,” the lizardkin corrected. ‟I am requesssting. I know I do not hold any bargaining power. Thisss wasss never a negotiation, but a requessst, born not out of pride, but humility. Our people are driven to the brink, dispersssed and unprotected. Lutvvin'sss hate for usss still runsss deep, and we require security while the world comesss to term with our reintegration.”

‟So, it is desperation?”

‟Indeed.”

Gwen paced around a quadrant of the room. ‟Integration is not a clean process. You will be targeted. You will be hated. And in the end, the culture of our country might not suit your tribe. Our beliefs might clash. What then?”

‟Truthfully, your majesssty, I do not know.” Lands Lord answered honestly. ‟But if we do not do thisss now, I fear we will not lassst another generation.”

The queen stopped pacing, her eyes closed in thought. Then, she turned to Art with a burning stare. ‟Artria, what would you suggest?”

Art was temporarily stunned. She had been quiet for a bit and had expected the conversation to proceed without her. However, despite her shock, she managed to stammer out, ‟I-I'm not a qu-”

‟Yes, yes, you're not a queen.” Gwen waved the concern away. ‟But I've told you, I value your opinion, and I would like to hear them.”

Art crossed her arms in discomfort, but her mind was already engaged. ‟Since neither side knows what reintegration will contain, perhaps it'd be best if Lands Lord is given access to information about our current culture and political situation, and make an offer after he has all the knowledge he needs.”

Gwen immediately stated, ‟Good idea, let's do that.”

‟Wait!” Art exclaimed. ‟Aren't you suppose to think on this? This makes it seems like I'm the one who made the decision.”

The queen shrugged nonchalantly. ‟I thought it was a good idea.”

‟You didn't even hesitate.”

Gwen smiled and turned to Lands Lord, ignoring the knight's protest. ‟Well then, despite that, I'm afraid to say you'll have to remain a-” She raised her hands and air-quoted. ‟-Prisoner, for now. Think of this as your really inadequate accommodations while I sort out the political crisis with The Council.”

The lizardkin nodded. ‟I am fine with that. Sssleeping rough isss not out of me repertoire.”

She gave a very imperceptible bow in understanding. ‟I'll arrange for someone to escort you to-and-fro the royal library at night from tomorrow onwards, and of course, to remove your bindings. If you have any furniture requests, feel free to ask, and we will do what we can. I will reconvene with you at the earliest possible time, or by the end of the season, to see where you stand then.”

‟Thank you, your mejesssty.” Lands Lord bowed.

Gwen nodded and without any further words, she handed Artria the keys to the cell and headed out, disappearing around the corridor.

Art exchanged a glance with Lands Lord, then she too turned to leave.

‟Artria,” the lizardkin called out. She looked back at him. ‟Thank you for bringing me here.”

‟I am simply doing my job. But now that my responsibility as escort is finished, if I find anything about your people that might harm the queen or the country, I will not hesitate to perform my other duties and sever any threats you may pose.”