You were either smart enough to figure it out, waited until I would reveal to you, or you just couldn't care, but the aforementioned mystery person is finally revealed. I'll try and validate his involvement in the pre-game storyline. If you just don't care, which I don't mind, you can read on ahead. But if you're a stickler for canon like I am, read this, if you like. This is all canon, by the way, and I used the game, its wikia, and Harvey Smith's tweets as reference.
Daud was of Pandyssian blood from his mother, hailing from Serkonos. According to the co-creative director of Dishonored (Harvey Smith), Daud was about sixteen years old when he moved from Serkonos to Dunwall, so he most likely arrived in the year 1811, (his birthday is the 13th day of the Month of Ice, 1795) and would have spent around eleven years in Dunwall before 1822. He was also marked by the Outsider by the year 1820, the year he began working as an assassin and created the Whalers. In this chapter, he's twenty-seven years old.
With regards to the Overseer music box that will be mentioned in this chapter: the music box has had probably been created by the very first High Overseer and founder of the Abbey of the Everyman Benjamin Holger (which is why it's been called "Holger's Device" by the High Artificer Bartholomew), meaning it had maybe existed before 1837. And speaking of the Overseers, the High Overseer in 1822 was still our ever-hated Thaddeus Campbell (who acted in the position from 1818 to 1837).
Lastly, one of the more interesting things I noticed about Daud was the long ugly scar that runs from his right temple all the way down to his neck. (But admittedly, he is pretty good-looking. Better-looking than Corvo, I might say.) And if any of you still aren't satisfied by this stuff: hey, what would be cooler than a pre-established relationship of Corvo and Daud before they actually go on a sword-to-sword blink-to-blink showdown a few years from then? :D
This is a lengthy chapter, and yes, this is a filler, so I'll be posting the new chapter within a few days. Triggers up ahead for blood and gore and foreshadowing. You have been warned.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the very obvious OCs.
AN AUDIOGRAPH RECORDING BY OVERSEER ALDEN COLLINGWOOD
COLLINGWOOD: Today is the 18th day in the Month of High Cold, the year 1821. We're finishing out our last sweep over the Flooded District in search for the heretic assassin, who is said to bear the Outsider's mark. Any or all rumours are being treated with doubt, and we have no solid evidence so far. We haven't even seen the assassin yet. It's been nearly two weeks, and I'm sick of this place. The men have grown restless too; three have died, and four more went missing, the stars bless them. Only about ten men remain, and that's a bad sig—
(Sounds of the door opening loudly.)
AN OVERSEER: Brother Collingwood!
COLLINGWOOD: Yes, what is it? Can't you see I'm recording someth—?
AN OVERSEER: All of the men are gone! They've all disappeared, or whatever happened to them! Someone even dismantled the music box! I ran up here as fast as I could; there's an intruder in the base.
COLLINGWOOD: What?! Then why won't you be able to take care of him instead of running to me like a coward?
AN OVERSEER: I-I didn't know what to do, I—
(The sound of metal piercing through flesh, and a curdled scream. Thuds on the floor, the yells of Collingwood, slow footsteps.)
STRANGE MAN: Overseer Collingwood.
COLLINGWOOD: H-How did you…sneak through them? Someone was playing the damn music box, it's impossible for you to get here!
STRANGE MAN: He turned around. Fatal mistake. Maybe yours isn't heeding warnings.
COLLINGWOOD: N-No…please no! NO! AAAHH—!
"Corvo, are you ready to go?"
Corvo flattened the collar of his long black coat and stared at Ivanna, who was waiting by the chaise as he was rushing down the stairs of Dunwall Tower. The Lady Protector was impatient as always, crossing her arms as she clicked her tongue, leaning in a lax manner against the carriage doors. When he finally stood before her, she shook her head as a frustrated mother would and pulled up his collar up higher again, much to his annoyance. He hadn't noticed before then, even though he often stood next to Ivanna countless times, but he was taller than her by a considerable height, tall enough that she had to stretch her arms just to be able to reach the top of his head to ruffle his hair.
"Why must you always do this?" Corvo groaned exasperatedly.
"Because you look like you're going to a Boyle party when you dress like that," she brushed the imaginary dust off his shoulder. "Look…less decent. It's an interrogation, not a ball."
He said nothing as one of the Overseers assigned to escort them opened the chaise door. Ivanna was about to step in and he was about to do the same.
"Corvo?"
Ivanna's foot was already in the chaise when both Royal Protectors turned around to see the Emperor's daughter there by the stairs, walking towards them with her eyebrows furrowed in anger. Both Corvo and Ivanna tried to discern through the interactions they had with Jessamine during that morning what had incited her apparent fury at them.
"Your Highness," Corvo's voice turned wary, suddenly aware of how he was supposed to keep his assignment a secret from her. His absence should have gone unnoticed, but for some reason, she was here. "Is something wrong?"
"You know very well what's wrong," Jessamine frown deepened as she stood in front of him with her arms crossed. "What do you think you're doing?"
"My Lady, don't worry about me and Corvo," Ivanna said in the coaxing and kind voice she always used on the Emperor's daughter. "We're simply going to the city to check on some business."
"And I know the very businesses, Ivanna," Jessamine put her hands on her hips. "Please drop the act; I know Father sent you to investigate on the heretic prisoner. I'm no gullible fool. Why did you keep this a secret from me?"
Ivanna blinked. "We never thought of you as such, my dear. We just…didn't want you to get involved in it. You're already in a dangerous position as it is, and we're trying to find answers; we don't want what happened a few months ago to repeat itself again, for you and your father's sakes."
"Well, even if I am in a dangerous position, I have you to protect Father and Corvo to protect me," Jessamine said confidently, as if it was a truth that was universally undisputable.
"And that's our purpose, yes," Corvo suddenly spoke, "but a Royal Protector can only do so much, Your HigHness."
Jessamine opened her mouth as to say something, but then closed it as her lips formed a thin line. For the first time in months, Jessamine had no reply to rebut in an argument. And from her Royal Protector, no less.
"We need answers, Jessamine," Ivanna spoke in a kinder tone. "And we may be one step closer to getting them if we do this."
"But what if this prisoner isn't the person you're looking for?" Jessamine retorted. "What if he had nothing to do with the assassination attempt and you're condemning an innocent man?"
"We'll know if the man is guilty or not," Ivanna answered. "Don't worry, we'll see to it that justice will be delivered."
Jessamine nodded in defeat. Interrogations, no matter who was being asked questions or who was inquiring, always made her mood sombre and melancholy. She believed that violent means should be a last resort, and not the first option; it would always be easier to speak to a man given kindness rather than a man given scars.
The Emperor's daughter bowed her head in a quick motion. "Thank you, Ivanna. Goodbye. My apologies, but to wish you luck in this endeavour is…too inhumane for me to grant."
The Emperor's Royal Protector nodded in understanding. After Jessamine gave Ivanna kiss on the cheek, the latter entered the chaise from the other side and slammed the door behind her. The Serkonan was about to open the other side before Jessamine's words stopped him again.
"Corvo."
He turned to look at her beautiful face as she fidgeted with her hands.
"Can you do me one thing, at least?"
Corvo bowed his head and looked at her expectantly. "Yes, Your Highness?"
Jessamine sighed as to recollect her thoughts before speaking. "Please don't kill this prisoner without any reason to. No matter how cruel and horrible you think he is, if you have no reason to take his life, I beg of you, please do not."
Corvo looked at a sad heiress with unreadable eyes, then slowly took her hand and pressed it to his lips. Unlike most nobles and guests who would usually kiss her knuckles when they were given the honour to greet her like that, her Royal Protector normally kissed the palm of her hand. And the strange thing was that she never offered her hand for him to take, and he often just took it without warning as a gesture of both greeting and parting between them. Not to mention that she had not reprimanded him for such an unusual gesture.
"You don't have to beg, Your Highness," Corvo held her hand carefully, as if it was made of porcelain. "If you say so, it'll be done."
Jessamine smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Corvo."
He stepped into the chaise and after Ivanna and Corvo waved the young lady goodbye. The carriage rode off into the landscape of the dim city.
Normally, the Royal Protectors weren't sent to the office of the High Overseer unless Euhorn needed an escort to be able to speak with High Overseer Campbell, or they had to pick something up and act as courier to the Kaldwins. This had not been their first time into the massive complex of an office, but Corvo still couldn't fathom its gigantic size. With its high walls, barbed perimeter and prowling guards, it looked more like another section of Coldridge Prison than the headquarters of the clergy. Even as Ivanna and Corvo got off the chaise and walked towards the building across Holger Square, Corvo could hear the faint sounds of hounds growling and barking, and the constant chatter of the Overseers, some trying to overanalyse the Seven Strictures, or simply talk about what dinner would be tonight.
The Royal Protectors were guided with an Overseer escort through the ginormous building, straight to the area leading to the interrogation room. The hallway leading to its door was heavily guarded, and even Captain Curnow was there standing by the entrance of the aisle.
"Lord Protector, Lady Protector," Curnow bowed, and the Royal Protectors bowed back.
"Captain," Ivanna returned the greeting. "Are they already inside?"
"Yes," Curnow began walking them to the interrogation room as some of the Overseer escorts followed behind. "High Overseer Campbell is there already and he's ready to begin the interrogation. All he's doing is waiting for you in the second floor."
"Good," Ivanna pulled the cloth pooling around her chin over her nose to form a half-face mask. "Corvo, pull up your hood."
Corvo frowned in confusion. "What?"
Ivanna didn't hesitate to turn around instantly and yank his hood over his head. Corvo grunted in frustration as she continued to follow the Captain.
"This is unnecessary," Corvo put his hand over his head, ready to push it off.
"You can disobey any of my orders at any given time, Corvo, but not this one," Ivanna said sternly. "This assassin's been a thorn in the Abbey's side for as long as I can remember, even before you came here to the City." And she leaned closer to whisper in his ear. "He deals with witchcraft…black magic, as some call it. They say he can teleport from the ground to the rooftop in the blink of an eye. I don't care if any of this is real or not…don't show your face. The assassin must only know you as the Royal Protector; not by your name, not by your identity. I won't risk it."
Corvo hesitated for a while, but in the end, he yielded to her and pulled the hood so far over his head so it would cast shadows over his eyes.
Curnow led them to the end of the hall and opened the door for the Royal Protectors to go up, and closed the door behind him as they hiked up the flight of stairs. Upon arriving, they saw the High Overseer in his vibrant red garments, surrounded by many more of his subordinates, wearing their emotionless, golden masks. Curnow cleared his throat, and the High Overseer turned around, scrutinising the both his guests with watchful eyes.
"Ah, and here are the Emperor's witnesses, the Royal Protectors themselves," Campbell greeted. "Come, you're just in time."
Ivanna and Corvo looked over the balcony and through the prison bars into the interrogation room below. In the middle of the spotlighted room was a chair, surrounded by guards with their swords already drawn; circling the centre was another Overseer, but he had with him a strange metal contraption strapped to his chest, and he held its crank as if in anticipation. Bound and cuffed to the chair was a man in a red Whaler uniform, and visible on its leather hem were splatters of blood. He was breathing heavily through the mask filters, as if in wheezing pain, and the glove on his left hand had been removed to reveal a strange black mark on his skin.
Upon scanning his eyes over the mark, Corvo shuddered suddenly, and Ivanna shot a concerned look at him before he reassured her with a glance and a nod.
"Alright, let's begin," Campbell inserted a blank audiograph and placed it in its player. He wound the knob a few times before speaking coherently and clearly for the machine to pick up his voice.
"This is High Overseer Thaddeus Campbell, and today is the 1st day of the Month of Harvest, 1822. We'll be interrogating one of the most dangerous nonconformists the Abbey has ever encountered: the heretic assassin. Brother Alastair, remove his mask."
One of the Overseers stood before the assassin, held him by the chin and unfastened the Whaler mask off his face. The assassin inhaled a deep gasp of breath that seemed as he had resurfaced from drowning, and his breathing grew slower, more audible, but heavier. The Overseer stepped back to reveal the face of a young man, fairly handsome if one happened to look at him long enough, whose strong jawline and facial structure marked the age of someone who had lived to see two decades, at least. However, his short dark hair and thick furrowed brows, the gaunt lines on his cheeks and nose and the dark circles surrounding his eyes made his true age ambiguous to anyone. His breathing was raspy, his disposition fatigued; he looked up at the High Overseer with a pitiful expression, but there was a dark light behind his silent plead that screamed defiance.
Corvo looked at Ivanna, who inhaled sharply but softly and covered more of the bridge of her nose with her scarf.
"Hello there, I hope you're comfortable," Campbell called with his hands behind his back. "I'm High Overseer Campbell, but I'm sure you know who I am, and where you are. We've all anticipated this chance to talk to you; look, even the Kaldwins' Royal Protectors came here too just to get the information they need.
"Now, this whole interrogation sequence is being recorded through an audiograph; I thought I might just inform you," Campbell patted his machine as it continued to make chips in the slate. "Also, please forgive me for the extra number of Overseers adding to our surveillance, and I'm sure you understand why: there are the ones around you now, some here on top with me, and plenty more in the hallway. We even have Captain Curnow and the Royal Protectors present, so I suggest you watch your behaviour."
The assassin tore his eyes from Campbell, looked down at his bound hands, and tried to shake free the left one, the one with the mark. Suddenly, much to Corvo's surprise, the black symbol on his hand began to glow and smoke, and all of the Overseers stood ready to attack, but then a shocking wave of noise blasted through the air, sending sounds of low hums and odd notes floating throughout the interrogation room. Corvo and some of the Overseers had to cover their ears because of its loud volume, but it seemed to have a different effect on the assassin; as the strange Overseer from earlier winded the crank on the machine strapped in front of him, the music coming from it grew more violent in nature, sending the assassin into a fit of screams and struggling, and there were moments where he even tried to tear himself from the chair, hopelessly wanting out. It seemed to inflict some harmful doing only on the assassin and no one else in the room, Corvo deducted…perhaps it had something to do with the mark.
Maybe that's what branded him a heretic.
The Overseer released the crank and the noise stopped; the assassin stood panting helplessly in his chair, his throat hoarse from screaming, and his wheezes accompanied by coughs. His hands gripped the armrests in rage as the Overseers around him grew more relaxed. Corvo tried to avert his eyes, but like some sick attraction of disease, he couldn't stop looking at him.
"Don't try and call your ghostly friend for help," Campbell said, full of disdain. "We have the Holger's Device with us, so you'll focus more on answering our questions, yes?"
The assassin said nothing, his heaving form still wheezed like an old bag of air.
"Now, let's begin," Campbell flipped over a few papers on the desk. "Tell us your name."
The whole room fell quiet until the only thing that everyone could hear was the assassin's heavy breathing.
Campbell sighed exasperatedly. "I'm asking for a name, it shouldn't be too hard a question. Unless, of course, you want Brother Emerson to play his tune again."
Another moment of silence. Campbell was a tad bit impatient when it came to asking again, and he was about to open his mouth to command Emerson to crank the machine, but a croaky, rough, voice from down below said in the clearest yet most indiscernible way:
"Daud."
Everyone, even the Overseers in the room with him, fell silent and turned towards the assassin, who looked up towards Campbell, his gaze more piercing.
"It's Daud," the assassin said again, clearer this time.
"Daud…" Campbell said aloud as he jotted it down on a paper. "Where do you hail from?"
The assassin diverted his gaze from the lights.
"I mean from which Isle you were born in," Campbell clarified upon realizing that his question was too vague to answer.
"Serkonos," the assassin replied.
Corvo tried his best to hide his shock. So he was from Serkonos too…maybe when he was just a child, he could have passed this assassin along the alleyways of Karnaca and he wouldn't have known. He began assessing his memories as a boy, trying to find a face similar to the assassin's, or how he would have looked like in his youth. Maybe the son of that fruit vendor, or the brother of that one maid, perhaps one of those many faces of children he had wrestled with in the mud for a scrap of bread and blood sausage. But he could find no one.
Ivanna shot a quick glance at Corvo before she cast her eyes down at the floor.
Campbell's lips made a thin line as he continued to write on his paper; for some reason, this interrogation was too easy, and the High Overseer had enough experience dealing with tight-lipped prisoners that a man spewing information like that was too suspicious.
"Alright, you were from Serkonos. Where were you born, then?"
"Can't recall the name of the city."
Campbell stared at Daud blankly. "Then from which isle do your parents come from?"
Daud's calloused fingers gripped the armrests. "I never knew my father."
"And your mother?"
"From Pandyssia."
Campbell scribbled more details into his chart. "Where did you grow up then?"
"Different towns around the Isle. There was no city to call a permanent home."
Campbell wrote down the last of the details on a new prisoner's information sheet before picking up another blank form. "Good, we're done with the basics. Now, the only reason we've brought you here is so that the Royal Protectors can inquire about your involvement in the assassination attempt of Emperor Euhorn Kaldwin. We can interrogate you some other day, when we're not wasting the Royal Protectors' time. After this, the Overseers will escort you to Coldridge Prison, where you will stay until we have the need to ask about your cases of heresy against the Abbey."
The fact that he was going to be sent to Coldridge Prison didn't even bother the assassin; it was the fact that the Emperor's name was mentioned. Daud furrowed his brows, as if in confusion.
The record for the newly made audiograph jutted out of the machine, full of arranged holes. Campbell removed it carefully, slipped another blank one in, then turned the knob and it continued to record.
"Lady Protector," Campbell nodded at Ivanna and she stepped forward. She made sure that her mouth was always covered by the cloth mask she wore as she clasped her hands behind her back.
"We are here on direct orders of His Imperial Majesty the Emperor," Ivanna began, in the militant tone she always had whenever she was training the guards, "so it would be efficient for both of us if you will answer out questions truthfully and without delay.
"Many in Emperor Euhorn's court are aware of the work you do, assassinating officials and other nobles for whatever purpose you deem righteous; whether it's for personal gain or vigilante justice, we don't care. I'm sure you also know of the assassination attempt that nearly took the Emperor's life about a few months ago, in which ten people have been killed, and about forty-three were injured, of which the Emperor is included. When we asked most of the court members about this, they were confident you were behind it, as it's a well-known fact that you're the leader of a syndicate of a group of assassins with similar professions and abilities like yours.
So did you stage the assassination attempt?"
Daud looked down and still didn't reply.
Ivanna leaned closer to the bars and repeated her words again slowly. "Did you stage the assassination attempt?"
The assassin didn't stir.
Campbell stepped to stand beside her. "I bet you're dying to hear another melody from Emerson, yes?"
Daud inhaled sharply and slowly, but unlike before, he didn't say anything.
"Very well," Campbell turned to the Overseer. "Emerson, play it."
The Overseer cranked the music box, and another string of low reverberating notes erupted through the air. Daud began clawing at the armrests and kicked wildly, flailing in his chair but he could not escape. His breathing had grown wilder, deeper, faster, and tried holding his breath and wheezed often, as if trying to choke back his screams. The music stopped, and once again, he was breathless and broken, and what's more, there was blood dripping out of his nostrils.
"Are you ready to answer?" Campbell asked.
Daud looked up at Ivanna. "I'd say that I was never involved in any of this, but you'd accuse me of lying."
"How do we know you're telling the truth?" Ivanna glared at him.
"Because you have no evidence that I was responsible for all of this. You're accusing me of a crime I never even thought of committing."
"But we do have evidence," Ivanna turned to Curnow. "Captain, if you will."
Curnow walked towards the Lady Protector, holding a leather sack, the same leather sack Lieutenant Levitt brought into Captain Avery's office days ago. Ivanna then reached inside it and brought out an object the assassin couldn't identify in the dark. Only when she stepped a few ways forward could he see a dirty Whaler mask in the light, caked in copious amounts of blood, with a small paper attached to its filters. Daud inhaled sharply and leaned forward, struggling nervously.
Campbell smirked. He was caught.
"We found this on the roofs at Dunwall Tower," Ivanna raised the mask in the air for him to see. "It was covered in much more blood, and came with this note." She turned over the mask so the assassin could clearly read the large black letters:
'YOUR EMPEROR WILL DIE.'
Daud shook his head. "No…no, whatever you think of all this, it's a ploy. I've been framed; you have to trust me—"
"How can we trust you?" Ivanna interrupted, her voice was loud and cold. "One of your men nearly killed the Lord Protector, and you expect me to trust you?! You might as well kill Lady Jessamine too before I believe any of this bullshit you throw at my face."
"I don't know a thing about this," Daud pulled himself forward. "This is evidence is set up against me; I wasn't anywhere near Dunwall Tower that day, and every single one of my men were under my watch and were unable to leave without my permission. I wasn't involved in any of this. I don't know how to prove it to you, but I'm innocent."
Ivanna frowned. Corvo pulled his hood further over his face.
"And besides," Daud's voice grew calmer as he leaned on his uncomfortable chair. "If you think I did try and kill the Emperor, why don't you just charge me of treason now and just execute me?"
"We need to hear it, straight from you," Campbell hit his audiograph machine twice with a knuckle. "Just for evidence that you did it so it's official we didn't publicly kill you for nothing."
Daud's brows furrowed and clenched his jaw. "But I didn't do anything."
Campbell was getting impatient. He crossed his arms and said nothing for a while, prompting the Captain, the Royal Protectors and many other Overseers to look at him expectantly, as if he was planning something, or was trying to think of a good enough string of insults and curses to spew at Daud.
"Would you like Brother Emerson to wind the music box again, High Overseer?" one of the Overseers beside Campbell suggested politely.
"No, no…I thought of a better idea," Campbell tried to hide his malicious grin, and Daud below inhaled slowly in nervous anticipation. "Let's do this the old-fashioned way. Brother Wyndham?"
One of the Overseers standing next to Daud's chair stepped forward. "Yes, High Overseer?"
"Take out your sword and put it against his temple."
As the Overseer obeyed and put his blade's tip at the edge of Daud's right forehead, the assassin tried to hide his trepidation. Corvo clenched his fists; he lived long enough in the streets of Karnaca to understand what was going to happen.
"I'll reiterate the Lady Protector's question," Campbell's voice was like that of one of the torturers at the Tower's underground chambers, low and daunting. "Did you stage the assassination attempt?"
Daud looked defiantly at the High Overseer, trying to gather willpower for what might come, ever silent. Brother Wyndham looked at Campbell expectantly and, when he was given the nod from his superior, dug the short point of his blade slowly into the assassin's temple.
Daud writhed in agony, but his screams were surprisingly quieter than most who would undergo the same torture. The metal cuffs clanked against his wrists and his ankles were probably bruised from kicking the restraints that bound his legs to the feet of the chair. The sword, agonisingly slowly, moved downward, blood flowing forth from the long deep wound that was slowly being made. Brother Wyndham stopped cutting at a spot near the far corner of his eye. When the Overseer drew back, Daud was trying his best to supress his groans of pain.
Corvo could see Ivanna trying to hide her disturbance with an indifferent expression.
"Do I have to ask again?" Campbell said, louder this time, obviously angry at Daud's persistent endurance. "Did you stage the assassination attempt?"
Daud's voice was throatier this time, as an effect from bottling up screams. "How many times am I going to tell you before you get it through your head? No, I didn't."
Brother Wyndham pointed his sword at Daud's face, but this time put his sword under his right eye. "Should I make it slow as well, High Overseer?"
Campbell shook his head. "Make this one quick. But make it long."
The Overseer nodded, and without warning, slashed his sword across Daud's face. It left a lengthy and grotesque scar, which ran from his eye to his collarbone, crossing his cheeks, chin, and neck. The sword even cut through his high collar and slashed through the fabric without effort. What the Overseer had left behind was an ugly bleeding cut that began whose dripping blood began to cake his face. It was then that Daud released the loudest and most painful scream that anyone in the room heard from him, and he didn't scream just once. He struggled and shook and yelled, his voice growing weaker with each scream but increasing in volume. Only after he had taken in many gasps of air wheezing helplessly did he fall completely silent.
"I don't think he's in a position to talk anymore," Ivanna commented to Campbell.
"My apologies that he wasn't more of an asset to your cause, Lady Protector," Campbell sighed disappointingly. "I'm sorry he was a waste of your time and my effort."
"He was a waste of time, wasn't he?" Ivanna replied. "A stubborn yet interesting waste of time."
Campbell huffed and paused in a rather quick moment of thought. "He won't be of use to us anymore, seeing as how he won't even bother to talk, even with a scar on his face. Well, we can get our information about the Outsider one way or another…maybe we'll try one of his assassins, or that old crazy Granny near the Distillery District."
"What do we do with him now, High Overseer?" Brother Wyndham asked Campbell.
Campbell clasped his hands at his back. "Kill him."
Brother Wyndham gripped his sword and held the sharp end of his blade before Daud's neck. The assassin inhaled and braced himself, and as the Overseer prepared to slice—
"Don't."
Everyone in the interrogation room turned to Corvo, who stepped forward to stand beside Ivanna and Campbell. The Lady Protector blinked curiously; she didn't notice until then that it was the first time he talked since the interrogation began.
Campbell frowned in confusion. "But Lord Protector, he serves of no use to us anymore—"
"I have orders from Lady Jessamine to spare him no matter what his intentions were," Corvo interrupted, gazing at the High Overseer. "Unless you want to disobey the commands of Her Highness, then feel free to do so, but at the cost of your position or your life."
"Right, of course," Campbell said, trying to hide his frustration behind his bow. "Brother Wyndham, release him."
Brother Wyndham stepped back and sheathed his sword. Daud looked up at the second floor to try and recognize the figure of his apparent saviour in the shadows.
"There's no denying your word enunciation, Lord Protector," Daud's voice was clear, but weaker. "You're from Serkonos too, aren't you?"
Corvo nodded, making Ivanna glare daggers at him. "Karnaca."
"I might've been there a few times," Daud said nonchalantly, as if the city brought back some of his fonder memories. "So you're the new Royal Protector of Lady Jessamine…I've heard plenty about her. She's a sweet girl; beautiful, too. She'll make a wonderful Empress."
Corvo said nothing as Ivanna suddenly grabbed the sleeve of his coat and pulled him down so she could whisper harshly into his ear. "What do you think you're doing?"
Corvo didn't reply to her and instead locked his eyes with Daud.
"You're an interesting man, Lord Protector," Daud observed aloud. "I hope our paths never cross again."
"And they never will," Corvo replied.
"Come on," Ivanna put a shoulder on Corvo's shoulder. "We're done here."
Captain Curnow led the two Royal Protectors out of the interrogation room, leaving Campbell alone deciding if he should disobey the Lady Jessamine's orders and gain immense satisfaction from Daud's death, or obey and let the greatest enemy of the Abbey out of the palm of his hand. The High Overseer sighed in defeat chose the latter.