[He'd thought that might be what would happen. The room had always demanded a sacrifice of sorts before. Even if they'd already done their turns this month, he supposed it could choose to take more if it needed to. Maybe this was how it punished people who transgressed.

Jezebel stays where he is, idly glancing at Ianchus and then at the instruments hanging on the wall waiting for a turn to inflict themselves on someone.]

I imagine it's the same as the last time we were here.