She pulled back and looked away from him, not bothering to hide her shame. "I don't know what else to do, Signore," she blurted out, tears stinging at her wide eyes when she looked back at him. They were not crocodile tears, the girl was genuinely distraught. Then she sighed and looked away again, "Best of my knowledge is a few months before Magnus was shot." And then she began to speak like someone who needed to unload the weight of the world.

She painted a picture of what happened in the months leading up to Magnus III's death, of just how much of a monster the man had been in life behind closed doors... He'd been a murderer, a man who instilled fear into every one of the girls at the brothel. "Not even having a wife stopped him..." she said bitterly, having been friends with some of the girls who had gone missing over the last few years thanks to him.

She spoke then about the day of the shooting, how frightened she had been.

"I don't know what else to do," she repeated. "Please, I beg of you, Signore," she implored, her hand on his.