Enjolras's fingers lift from the walking stick, acknowledging and dismissing that assertion in the same moment.

"But do they have to? Is that inevitable?" A delicate pause, just an instant. "Or is it only the way the path has been walked in the past?"

The Minotaur snorts loudly. The bovine sound is incongruously pastoral, echoing off stone walls and stone ceiling.

"One way is the pit. The other way are the king's blades. Once you come in, you don't leave."