Duv wishes he could say this wasn't an experience he had all-too-recently. At least he can say the emotional damage is far less, the only pain he feels here is physical though the flashes of when his father oversaw his last dance with torture bleed over at times. Bleeding along with other parts of him. The sins of his forefathers hounding him once more and Duv wonders if he'll ever truly be able to escape it. The light had to be somewhere or so he believed. He's survived too much to let this be the final nail in the coffin.

Experience and Imperial Security training have him holding whatever shreds of dignity he can. The break between sessions has been short and he barely feels as if he's caught his breath when he hears the pair enter. The howl of the wind had been comforting compared to the sound of footsteps closing in. It hurts to move his head, but he refuses to let this go by without staring his captor in the eyes. If he weren't bound to a chair and being tortured by the man, he'd be fascinated at meeting Piotr Vorkosigan. Somewhere in the beating, his historical curiosity left him.

The other man is new, more than likely a Vor though he can't quite place him at a glance. An audience for what is to happen next? He's not here to bring Duv food or comfort, he knows that much.

"Well?" he manages to ask, voice quavering despite his attempts to keep it steady.