𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓰'𝓼 𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓮

Chapter Three: Interrogation

Suddenly, he was on his feet. He circled the table, coming to a stop directly beside my chair. I refused to meet his gaze, staring straight ahead. I jumped, as I felt his finger under my chin, lifting my head to look at him. He bent down, positioning his face a mere inch away from mine.

"Precisely, my Rose."

"Don't call me that." I said, trying and failing to contain the heat rising to my face.

"You know, I haven't yet told you how enamoured I am with your accent. It's adorable."

"I am anything but adorable." I growled, inching away from him.

"I beg to differ." he responded, glancing at my lips.

Suddenly, the guard from before entered the room without warning, and the King quickly stood and recomposed himself.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Terribly sorry, your majesty, but the Regimen you sent to America a while back has just returned and are looking to meet you in the throne room."

"I'll be there in a moment." the King responded, sighing.

"She didn't talk, your majesty?" the guard asked hesitantly, glancing between the two of us.

"She did not." he replied shortly.

"Might I suggest, your liege, using violence to extract the information?" the soldier continued quietly, as though the King might snap at any moment.

"No, you may not suggest anything of the sort. Return the girl to her cell." he concluded curtly, striding from the room and leaving me with the soldier.

"You heard him, prisoner. Get up." the soldier's tone changed from respectful to venomous the second the King was out of earshot.

I complied, following the guard back to the dungeon I'd grown to loathe. He shut me back in the cell after removing my binds, before meeting my gaze with a sour expression.

"Don't think the King will pity you forever simply because you are a woman. If his majesty wants something from his prisoners, he will stoop to whatever means to get it. Personally, I think French soldier scum like yourself deserve no such mercy as what the King is showing you, but it will wear off in due time, when he grows bored of toying with you." he spat, and then at last turned, leaving me to the lonely vacantness of my musty prison cell.

The next day, I was surprised to see the soldier return, once again binding my hands and taking me to the castle. Was it so that I could be interrogated again? Was the King truly stupid enough to believe that I would give any sort of information? His efforts were pointless, I would never talk. Just as I guessed, the soldier brought me to the study again, where the King sat in the same spot as yesterday, awaiting me.

"You must be stupid." I said when the soldier had left us.

"Hm?" he leaned forward, smirking.

"You heard me. No matter how much you try, I won't give you what you want."

"Perhaps it isn't information that I want from you, dear."

"Would you stop calling me that?" I rolled my eyes, slouching into my seat.

"What, dear? Well, I suppose if you would prefer prisoner then so be it. I just find it so much less endearing."

"I don't care for any endearing titles from you." I retorted.

"Why are you so cold to me, the only one who bothers to speak with you?"

"In the hopes of gaining information, I'm well aware of your intentions, sir, and I've no interest in being anything but cold to you."

"And yet I haven't once even attempted to interrogate you."

"Yes, perhaps this job isn't exactly suited to you, seeing as how you're performing so poorly. You should consider a replacement."

"Well, if you insist that I question you, then I shall, and trust me I've no need to use violence to gain information," he said, placing his hands on the table "When, pray tell, will France be sending its ships and supplies and from which port?"

I glared at him, leaving his question unanswered. He shook his head, before standing up, and making his way to my side of the table, sitting on the edge of it.

"Darling, you could make this easy on yourself, or hard, it's entirely up to you." he said, folding his hands together.

"And without the use of violence, how will this be made hard for me?" I asked him.

I knew I regretted my question the second the corners of his lips twisted up into a smirk. He reached his hand out, grasping at the excess rope hanging from my binds, jerking it forward, and pulling me to my feet, before pushing me against the wall, placing both of his hands on either side of my head.

"I'll ask you again. When and where will France send its supplies and ships?" he said, his voice a whisper as his gaze trailed down my face, landing on my lips before returning to my eyes.

"I won't tell you. Truthfully, they've probably gone by now." I smiled, trying to hide the crimson colour flushing my cheeks.

"Have they?" he asked half-heartedly, leading me to believe interrogating me was the last thing on his mind at the moment.

I shifted my weight against the King, trying to push him off, but failing.

"Am I making you nervous?" he asked slyly.

"C-Cela ne veut pas du tout vrai! I am not nervous at all, you idiot, you are overly arrogant!"

The King chuckled, releasing me from his grasp but not moving away.

"Am I right to assume you won't give me answers today, either?" he asked.

"You are." I responded curtly.

"You will tire of your cage eventually, my Rose, and you will be adamant to trade information to rid yourself of it, in due time." he turned to leave, but paused to speak once more, "And you know, most would be hung for speaking to the King as you do, dear. It takes either great bravery or great stupidity to call the King of Great Britain an idiot."

I scoffed as he exited the room. I would sooner die than give up information entrusted with me, even if it would benefit the bastards that left me here to die. And so, as the soldier returned me once more to my cell, I vowed to keep all I knew secret, no matter the rewards that would be revoked, or the punishments that would be received in doing so. I was more than willing to die for my cause.

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