Lotor shifted his shoulders. He wanted to smile at how the paladins had cuffed him with his wrists crossed in front of him, but he knew full well what his smile looked like–
(a devious smirk, because it often was)
–and he held back. He wasn’t quite certain where they had gotten the cuffs either. They seemed to run on an archaic form of Altean magic, and he wanted to study them further.
Couldn’t do that if he broke them while escaping.
Idle thought, anyway. He had no intention of escaping.