Osmund, now fed up with her childish games, grabbed her by her neck and threw her into the small cell behind his chair, then locked it. The bars were covered in holy water, and if she dared to touch it with her damned soul she would burn to ashes. "Come on, I dare you to try and get out. If you excuse...I have to see your friend Mortimer...I think he is kind of fed up with life..." he told her. If no one was going to work for him, then no one would live happily. He would make sure they all suffered.