Chapter 63: Continued Interrogation: Part One
For the next three days, Evanna was visited by the elven prince, who interrogated her non-stop. He was sharp and intuitive with his line of questioning. Evanna was beginning to grow accustomed to his ways; his questioning went in circles and sometimes in riddles, jumping from little questions such as: what do you like to drink? To: Where are you from?
With the lack of sleep from staying in a dungeon and refusing to sleep on the hay, Evanna was becoming sloppy in her answers, occasionally giving real truths about herself. She watched in those moments as his eyes lit up in smug satisfaction, it was fleeting, as though she imagined it, but in those moments, Evanna could see he knew she slipped up.
Evanna knew he was tactful, and she couldn’t help but be impressed. He did it all without using any measures of violence, something she found to be immensely grateful for. Although, she did feel as though it would lead to torture at some point.
On this day, the third day of her imprisonment, it was no different. Arawn arrived and stood outside the bars for the first part of his questioning. He paced backwards and forwards occasionally until he entered the cell and used a chair to sit down elegantly onto. Evanna stayed seated on the ground this time; she was in no mood to stand with her energy and hope of escape depleting the longer she stayed in there.
Evanna sighed and looked back up at Arawn. She felt disgusting in his presence; she was dirty and, after sniffing herself before he arrived, also quite smelly. She could only hope that the stench of the cell covered up her own smell. Her hair as well was something she would laugh at if she saw it in the mirror. Evanna gave up on trying to brush it with her fingers and wouldn’t care if they cut it all off; at least she wouldn’t have to deal with it.
"How are you keeping?" Arawn asked; his voice was filled with concern, but Evanna refused to feed into the lie of his manipulation. He did not care; it was only another tactic, a way for her to feel comfortable around him, comfortable enough to assist in answering his questions.
Evanna looked away from him and replied sarcastically, "I’m locked in a cell. What do you think?"
Evanna realised after the first few hours of his questioning on the first day he visited that she could speak quite freely with him. She saw him get angry occasionally with how she spoke, but he never raised his voice nor laid a finger on her in agitation. It was almost as if he was a gentleman, but the rumours behind his malice and cruel ways started from somewhere, and she would not be fooled into thinking he was any different.
It was evident from when the king visited her, the prince stood by and didn’t react when she was slapped across the face. But why would he? She was the one to steal from them. She was nothing more than a thief on their land.
Arawn leaned forwards, breaking his stiff posture and leaned his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together, resting his head on them as he stared down at her.