Heart Over Sword

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.

"You know, if you just gave me the information I seek, then this," He waved his hand, pointing around the room, "all of this will be gone. You will have your own bed, a bath, new clothes and nourishing meals."

Evanna glanced at him at the mention of a bath, and dare she think it, new clothes. She closed her eyes, pained by how little restraint she had when it came to such things. If she was an actual commoner, those items would never bother her.

She had even travelled with her friends without her luxuries. Opening her eyes again, Evanna took a deep breath in and looked up at the ceiling. No matter what he did, she would refuse to provide him with the answers he wanted.

"It looks like I will be staying in here for a while then," She muttered and watched as the prince's expression darkened.

"You do realise your friends will be found soon along with the gemstone. It is futile in not cooperating," He emphasised each word slowly, and Evanna couldn't help but feel a shiver run up her spine. It was not from her sense, but she suddenly felt cold; there was no draft, neither had the weather changed outside to bring such a chill in the air.

She did not answer him and instead pretended to assess her nails. That small action made him stand and fling his chair back; Evanna jumped at the loud clattering sound that echoed through the tower she resided in. Arawn grabbed her by the top of her shirt and lifted her up to her feet, their faces were inches away, but she refused to move her head away and stared straight back into his icy blue eyes.

"Did you want me to hurt you, Raven? Is that it? Are you sick and twisted enough to want that?" He seethed.

Evanna blinked back innocently. What sort of questions were these? Her brows drew together as she replied, "Of course, I do not wish to be hurt, your highness. But I have no choice. I cannot tell you what you want to know. So, if it comes down to being beaten, just know this, you might as well kill me because even if I am in the most excruciating pain… You will not get your answer."

Arawn flickered his eyes between hers, his own calculating. Evanna could see the wheels spinning behind them as he tried to figure out the problem that was she. He released his hands on her and took one step back, providing her with still too little space to call comfortable in his presence.

"The book you have in your bag.. was it useful for your time in the forest?" He queried. 

Evanna blinked at the sudden question. He was acting as though they were now having a pleasant conversation at dinner, but she knew he was beginning his little act. Either way, she would answer. These questions were easy, and she didn't mind replying to them.