Pollux examined Sirius again, frowning. He looked well put together for a man who got sentenced to Azkaban. And for murder, no less. Pollux hadn't been lying when he suggested the incident wasn't the first among their family. If Arcturus wanted or needed someone to disappear, they disappeared and none of the Blacks blinked about it. Pollux would no doubt one day be the man carrying out the task if Arcturus needed him to. It didn't bother him to think about. They did what was necessary to preserve the strength and life of their family.
But Sirius was a child, by all accounts, though he was older than Pollux. And that didn't sit well with him. He took a drink of the poor tasting alcohol, managed to keep it down, then twisted the ring around his finger in quiet anxiety.
"We all face consequences for our actions. You make your bed, you have to sleep in it," he said with practiced certainty. Then paused. "How did you end up in Azkaban without a defense?" he asked, dreading the answer. There was no way Pollux could fathom that the family would leave one of their own to rot without trying to help.