Questioning

The warden, a man hardened by years of confinement and the weight of responsibility, stepped out of the dimly lit room. The flickering gaslight cast long, distorted shadows on the walls, mirroring the turmoil churning within him. His brow furrowed in thought as he replayed the tense conversation with Lilien in his mind, her words echoing like a haunting melody. Each syllable, each accusation, each plea for mercy, resonated within him, a constant reminder of the burden he carried. His heavy boots echoed down the narrow hallway, each thud a beat in the symphony of his internal struggle. He approached his captain, a man of stoic demeanor and unwavering loyalty, who was leaning casually against the stone wall, his posture radiating an air of quiet authority. The captain's eyes, sharp and watchful, met the warden's gaze.

"So?" the captain asked, his voice laced with curiosity, a hint of impatience creeping into its usually calm tone. 

The warden, Evan, a man whose face bore the etchings of countless sleepless nights and heavy decisions, hesitated for a moment before responding. "She said she's from Erries," he finally uttered, his voice a low rumble that seemed to echo the unease that had settled upon him.

The captain, a man whose weathered face spoke of years spent navigating the treacherous currents of power and intrigue, raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback. "Huh? How did someone from Erries get all the way there?" he asked, disbelief coloring his tone. The question hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the vast distance separating the two lands, a distance that seemed insurmountable, especially for someone claiming to be a prisoner.

Evan sighed, his tone filled with uncertainty, a stark contrast to the steely resolve he usually projected. "She keeps insisting. Said she was originally from Garhian," he explained, his words laced with a hint of doubt. The mention of Garhian, a land shrouded in mystery and whispered tales of ancient magic, only deepened the enigma surrounding Lilien's claims.

The captain's eyes narrowed with suspicion, his gaze piercing Evan's like a sharp blade. "Do you think she's lying?" he asked, his voice a low growl, a challenge veiled in a question. The air crackled with tension, the weight of their unspoken doubts pressing down on them like a suffocating blanket. 

Evan crossed his arms, his broad shoulders slumping slightly under the weight of his growing unease. His mind raced, trying to piece together the fragments of Lilien's story, but the more he thought, the more the puzzle seemed to unravel. "Logically, her story doesn't add up," he muttered, his voice laced with frustration. "How was she kidnapped from Erries? It's a land of peace, not known for its violent kidnappings. Why was she kidnapped in the first place? What could she possibly possess that would warrant such a drastic measure? And why did someone from Lysan, a land known for its isolationist policies, decide to help her?" His voice trailed off, the unanswered questions lingering in the air like a heavy mist, obscuring any semblance of clarity.

The captain, a man whose intuition was as sharp as his sword, folded his arms, his gaze fixed on Evan, his mind working through the same tangled web of possibilities. "You're right," he said with certainty, his voice a low rumble that resonated with conviction. "She's definitely a spy. It's the only thing that makes sense." His words hung in the air, a stark declaration that shattered the fragile hope that Lilien might be telling the truth. 

Evan, however, wasn't convinced. He stared at the floor, his gaze fixed on a single crack that snaked across the worn stone, his mind still working through the details, searching for a missing piece, a clue that would unlock the mystery surrounding Lilien. "But something else isn't adding up," he muttered, more to himself than to his captain, his voice a low murmur that barely broke the silence.

"What do you mean?" the captain asked, his brow furrowing, his voice laced with a hint of impatience. The weight of their responsibility, the burden of protecting their kingdom, pressed down on them, demanding answers, demanding action.

"I'm not sure," Evan admitted, shaking his head slowly, his fingers drumming a restless rhythm against his thigh. "There's something about her... I can't put my finger on it." He let out a frustrated breath, the air escaping his lungs in a rush, a testament to the turmoil churning within him. "I'll try to get her to talk. In the meantime, keep her locked up," he said, his voice firm, his resolve hardening as he faced the daunting task ahead. 

"Of course," the captain said with a nod. "You have good instincts, Evan. That's why we trust you to take care of this."

Evan didn't respond, his mind already drifting back to the interrogation room and the web of mysteries that surrounded Lilien.

---

The door creaked open, and Evan stood at the threshold, his face unreadable as he stared at the woman sitting in the dim light. Her hands trembled, but her eyes were steady, filled with desperation and fear. 

"Are you ready to talk?" Evan asked, his tone devoid of emotion. His cold gaze lingered on her for a moment, watching for any sign of deception. "If not, then let's go. We're sending you back."

Lilien's breath hitched, and she leaned forward, her voice trembling. "Please, you have to listen to me. I'm not from Lysan. Don't send me back." Her voice cracked, panic seeping into her words. "They'd kill me."

Evan's eyes narrowed as he stepped forward, his voice dropping to a cold, sharp edge. "Because you failed your mission?"

Her breath caught again, and she shook her head violently, her words rushing out. "I'm not from Lysan!" she insisted, her desperation mounting as she struggled to make him believe. "You have to understand—"

But he wasn't listening anymore. His eyes had grown distant, his mind drifting elsewhere as though the conversation had already ended in his mind.

"Whenever you're ready, I'll be patient," Evan said, his tone dismissive. He turned his back to her, his posture rigid, as if sealing her fate with that final motion.

Lilien sat frozen, her voice caught in her throat. The weight of his indifference crushed her, and the walls around her seemed to close in, trapping her in the cold, unyielding reality of her situation. Suspicion and disbelief had woven themselves tightly around her, and there was no way out.