It was one thing to defeat a villain. It was another thing entirely to volunteer to oversee their rehabilitation.
Especially when said villain refused to make any progress in the matter.
The man seated before her—The Dark Lord, Emperor of the Shadowscythe, undead Doomknight, Lord Sepulchure, and, according to His Majesty King Alteon the Balanced, Sir Valen the Purehearted—had in the course of their meeting thus far managed to poison the atmosphere of the meeting room so thoroughly that her assistant had to leave so she wouldn't faint. Hero felt sorry for the poor kid; he'd probably come in expecting to be intimidated with words, not with sheer force of hatred.
"How are you feeling today?" Hero asked again, as if the answer weren't already obvious from the oppressive miasma of hate choking the air out of the meeting room.
He didn't answer her. Since the guards had brought him into the meeting room, bound in shackles and runes and things that Hero didn't even recognize, he'd yet even to say a word. It wasn't that his mouth was restrained as well as the rest of him; it was just that so far he'd preferred to glare and scowl. He was scowling right now as a matter of fact. Somehow the expression seemed almost to become more potent when she'd asked her question.
"Are your restraints comfortable? Do they cause any pain or discomfort?"
Still no response. She eyed the shackles bound around the dark lord's wrists and ankles. They were enchanted of course, meant to disrupt the wearer's natural mana flow just enough to make spellcasting difficult, but any other functions such as magical prostheses or self-healing abilities would continue to work just fine. To her knowledge, they'd never been used before on a creature that needed constant mana flow just to stay mobile. Such as undead.
It was very important to document their effects when there was a chance that they might effectively kill their wearer.
"You know, our time is going to be up soon, and we'll have to take you back to your cell. Serenity told me that she was bringing Gravelyn in for a check up today—would you like to see her before then?"
A shift. His eyes widened just the slightest bit, but he made no move beyond that. At this point, Hero was starting to wonder if he'd even so much as blinked during their meeting.
She rose from her chair and gave him a shallow nod, heading towards the room's exit. "I'll step out for a bit to get my assistant. The guards should be coming in a few moments to take you back to your cell. I'll tell Gravelyn that you said—"
"Take me to my daughter."
Hero turned suddenly. He remained still in the chair, glaring and scowling and having not moved a muscle.
"I'm sorry?" she asked, "Did you say anything?"
If he'd spoken before, he wouldn't do so again. She was met with more of the same silence that had hovered over their meeting like a thick smog. Or was it—
No. Something was different. Hero couldn't put her finger on what the change was, but something was certainly different from before. There was less of a hateful feeling in the room. Less hateful, and more... Something else. Something Hero couldn't recognize.
"...Alright," she said eventually. "I'll contact Serenity and ask her to ready Gravelyn for the visit. I'm sure she'll be happy to see you."
She turned on her heel and headed out of the room. Her assistant was seated on the floor, breathing in and out of a paper bag in an attempt to recover from the miasma. He waved when she came into view.
"Sorry about that. Anything happen while I was out?" He asked.
Hero nodded.
"Don't quote me on this—but I think we're making progress."