14 3.2

Orion took a few minutes more before he came into the interrogation room I was in, and I resented every second that passed with the rage only possessed by the starving and sleep-deprived. It took every fiber of my remaining restraint to resist the urge to glare at him as he opened the door and entered, holding a dozen or so papers against his side, impatiently tapping them against his leg.

He pulled his chair forward with a loud screech of wood on stone, pulling a wince out of me as my headache responded with another throb. Giving me a stern look that told me not to waste his time in the same song and dance we had done before, he sat down with a loud 'thump' that echoed slightly in the lifeless chamber.

"Prince Haven." Captain Orion gave me a slow, respectful nod. I returned it with similar amounts of stiff respect and dignity. My palms sweated as I waited to be interrogated, the knowledge that I hadn't technically done anything wrong doing nothing to suppress my rising panic. I rubbed them on the leg of my suit, straightening my spine in an attempt to give myself a boost of courage.

"I have a few questions for you regarding the events of the night." His neutral, non-accusatory tone was jarring compared to most of our previous interactions. Still, the memories made my heartbeat at double rhythm as my anxiety choked at my throat.

In a last-ditch effort to loosen my vocal cords enough to talk, I leaned rocked back in my chair, balancing it on two legs with my knees securely kept underneath the table to keep myself steady, trying to portray the image of perfect ease that royalty should have. Fake confidence was better for my courage than no confidence at all.

"Ask away."

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I started at the library and finished where I watched the envoy jump out the window of my room. I was quite impressed that I managed to remember so much specific detail, and further impressed that I didn't panic and confess to any murders of persons real or imaginary. His presence tended to be a trigger for me to confess all my sins, and the fact that I hadn't done anything wrong didn't change that impulse. It helped that his gaze wasn't boring into my skull, instead wandering off into a corner of the room in a distracted daze.

His gaze snapped back to me the moment I finished my story, and I had to force myself not to brace for impact. Instead, I slowly lowered my chair back onto the ground and folded my arms on the table, leaning forward and keeping my eyes focused on his, waiting for any further questions.

"She took your pocket watch?"

Somehow, that was not the response I was expecting. He spoke it quietly, without inflection, question, or condemnation. I also wasn't sure why he would be interested- it didn't have any value to anyone other than me, and it wouldn't be any easier to trace than the other objects stolen. I could only hope that she saw it as so worthless that it wasn't worth her time to melt it down; it hurt that it was gone, but it would be agonizing to know that it was no longer in this world in its original form. I had to resist the urge to pat my pocket to check for it as I usually would, and my heart twinged at the thought.

Something inside urged me not to tell me how much the watch meant to me, only providing the basic details rather than spilling the entire story about how much it meant to me.

"Yes. It has a copper cover and it's slightly scratched on the front. It belonged to my Grandfather, on my mother's side." That should be enough information to differentiate it from the jeweled baubles and accessories of monetary value I imagined she had already amassed.

Orion nodded and wrote a quick note on one of his papers. "I will make sure it gets added to the list of items that went missing tonight." His tone was dismissive. I was hopeful that that meant we were done, but no such luck.

"You said she handed you her shoes and told you to keep them, correct?" He paused in his writing to look at me once more. "Any idea why she would do that?"

How was I supposed to know? From what I heard, they were the only solid clue they had in their investigation, but I didn't know anything about shoes. Or the minds of women.

"Did she mention anything about them?" He leaned forward with apparent eagerness, likely hoping that I had forgotten to mention something that would help. "Are they important? Did she say or do anything that would make you think she was coming back for them?"

I sighed. "Honestly, I think she just took them off to be able to climb the tree easier. It's hard to climb trees with shoes on, and I imagine it only gets harder if you have something in your hands that prevents you from gripping the branches properly." Many a day was spent climbing that very same tree in my misspent youth, and I always took my shoes off to climb it. It made it easier to grip, and I had always enjoyed the way the bark felt under my feet. My stepmother frowned on the entire enterprise, insisting that I would fall out or that I would ruin my clothes. Technically she was right on both counts, but that never stopped me. I wonder if the thief ruined her dress as she climbed down. It was probably more difficult to maneuver in than if she was wearing pants.

His face lost its eagerness and he lifted his hand in a dismissive matter, waving me toward the door. "I think that would be everything." He sounded about as tired as I felt at this point. At least I didn't have who knows how many more interviews to conduct before I could sleep tonight. "If you think of anything else, please send a message with one of the guards."