"I object."

The crowd grows silent.

"Thank you, thank you," Lyceen mutters between broken sobs.

Lord Davenish, who has been observing the scene from a raised box surrounded by his house guard, leans forward. "You object?" he sneers. "You ARE protectors. This is what you do? Try to free a monster? Let more children vanish in the night?"

He motions to the official who throws the torch into the oiled wood pile by Lyceen's feet.

"Objection overruled."