A Final Act in Death.
Alex knew how the rumors had spread, sharing what little he could with Chrom before they had shackled him under the accusing reason that he is Plegia, son of the head of Grimeal and the vessel of Grima himself.
The chains weighed heavily upon his frame and his body had thinned out for lack of food as several nobles wanted him killed for his blood and role. He could still recall the rage that Tharja had unleashed when she learned that he was to be imprisoned, wasting a few guards and nobles before Chrom had calmed her down, understanding what was happening was not any of their doings. Alex breathed and the guards outside twitched, fearful for any attack when he spoke. "Tell me, Lieon, how has your wife been?"
"Oh, she is fine, sir." Alex chuckled at the response before taking it again.
"Sir?, I am no longer the tactician of Ylisse so there is no need for formalities."
"But you..." The guard started, but the other shook his head, though Alex did see