At least it wasn't so near the cells as the Lieutenant's was. She didn't think she could take being so close to so much concentrated suffering for long enough to get any work done. Perhaps that was why she'd been sent here in the first place: to make sure she'd never want to disobey orders again if it meant she'd have to see all this.
But it's too late for that. You have seen, and you will never forget. Here, there, the suffering never ends, does it? And it is not only they that suffer, the ones in the cells. Amalia laid her head on her hands atop her desk, taking deep, calming breaths. That particular revelation, one that had been refusing to leave her for some time now, made nothing easier. There was still nothing she could do about it. Oh, part of her wished very much to burn this place down around the ears of anyone who thought it could be considered even remotely right. But what was she? Just one Knight, with one power, one friend. What could she hope to accomplish? No, better to stay here, ease suffering where she could.
And still she felt weak, useless. How she detested that feeling, and that appearance, especially in front of the ever-strong Karash. Karash, who followed her for some reason she could not decipher, ever present at her back like some massive, distorted shadow, a comforting presence for none, she suspected, save herself. "What do I do now?" she asked aloud, not really expecting her companion to respond.
There was a moment of silence, and just as she was contemplating getting up and going to check on the patients in the infirmary, a response broke the lull. "You do what you wish," Karash rumbled simply, but for some reason the words struck her as important.
The question is, what do I wish?