Myrwin had to fight down an almost sexual urge to pull steel and run this idiot through. "I can tell you right now, my Lord, that Elia had _nothing to do with this_." he hissed. "And if I'm wrong, and if she is, I'll kill her myself. In the old fashion." he said.
Because cramming someone into a tiny cage and leaving them to die of thirst, then leaving their rotting corpse until nothing remained but bones was a deeply unpleasant way to die.
"Can you vouch for all of yours, milord?" he asked, suddenly all smiles again. "All the little lions scampering about. Perhaps a cub tries her claws. Or his." he mused.