Wolf Princess Sold to the Dragon King

Protecting her was the reason Kael volunteered. Watching her dismantle a prison with compliments and observations that were technically correct was the gift that kept on giving.

The interrogation room was windowless and designed to make people feel small. The lighting was bright when they walked in.

Kael pulled the chair out next to Guinevere and sat.

The officer looked at Veyron.

”Yeah, no. She is not being questioned without me present,” Kael said flatly.

Veyron waved a hand, done fighting battles he couldn’t win tonight, and took his seat across from her. Octavian stood behind him, arms folded.

The lights dimmed until the only thing still fully lit was Veyron’s face and the table between them.

Kael recognized it immediately. Classic interrogation staging. Control the environment. Control the subject. Reduce the visual field to the questioner and the question. He had seen it done in Drakencrest.

Not on his watch.

He opened his mouth, but Guinevere cut him off at the knees.

”Oh, this is lovely,” she commented. ”Your community has such a fascinating relationship with light and I would love to someday bring this concept back to my land. Only with your permission of course. I would never want to appropriate your sacred sharing space customs.”

Veyron stared at her. Behind him, Octavian closed his eyes.

”Sharing space customs,” Veyron repeated.

”Yes, Commander. The customs of your people. You should be proud of your community’s approach to justice. It has been consistently impressive.”

Silence followed. If Kael could have taken a crystal snapshot of anything today, it would be their faces across the interrogation table right now. The dim-light interrogation tactic had been neutralized in under fifteen seconds.

”Well said, Guinevere. I feel safe too.”

He started snapping in applause. This was going to be terrible. She was going to love it and he was going to watch and no one would ever believe him when he would try to retell this story.

Guinevere joined the snapping. ”Thank you, Kael. I’m glad you feel safe too.”

Octavian and Veyron watched two prisoners snap at each other across an interrogation table for a solid ten seconds past comfortable.

”The snapping is a nice touch,” Octavian admitted after it had finally stopped. ”An excellent way to express enthusiasm that honors everyone’s sensory boundaries.”

Guinevere beamed at him. ”I’m thrilled it is resonating with you, Master Mage.”

Veyron leaned forward. Hard voice. Hard eyes. ”Let’s talk about what happened a few days ago, the night you were in Solveil. You ran from law enforcement officers. Explain that.”

Before Guinevere could respond, Octavian spoke first. ”Your Highness, we’re not trying to trap you. We just want to understand what happened. In your own words. Take your time.”

Veyron cut back in. ”She doesn’t get to take her time. She gets to answer.”

Octavian raised a calming hand toward Veyron. ”Commander, let her speak.” He turned back to Guinevere. ”Go ahead.”

Veyron slammed his palm on the table. ”I don’t have patience for—”

Guinevere jumped at the loud noise.

”Pause,” she said, raising her hand.

Veyron stopped mid-word. Not because she had authority. Because the interruption was so unexpected that his brain stalled.

Guinevere looked at Veyron. Then at Octavian. Then back at Veyron.

”Can I just say one thing before we continue? The two voices in this sacred sharing space. One fire. One water. Your ancestors understood that the spirit needs both. That wisdom is alive in this room and I am grateful to experience it.”

She looked at both of them with the warm, earnest gratitude of a woman presenting an employee recognition award.

”You have both gone above and beyond to play your roles in here and I just want you to know that you are being seen. This kind of teamwork doesn’t happen by accident. It’s cultivated. And it’s beautiful.”

Silence. The kind that has a pulse and a headache.

Kael nodded from beside her. ”She’s right. You two really do complement each other. The contrast is effective. He brings the intensity.” He pointed at Veyron. ”You bring the warmth.” He pointed at Octavian. ”Honestly, you should work together more often. This is a strong unit.”

”Thank you,” Octavian replied.

Veyron’s head turned toward him slowly. The rotation carried the specific torque of a Commander watching his Master Mage accept a compliment from the suspect during an interrogation they were supposed to be winning.

”Don’t thank her, Octavian.”

”Right. Sorry.”

”Can we continue?” Veyron asked. The question was aimed at the room but directed at whatever remained of his authority.

”Absolutely,” Guinevere said. ”And again, truly, wonderful dynamic. I’ll be including both of you in my feedback.”

”There is no feedback,” Veyron said.

”There will be,” Kael said before he started snapping again. Why he was snapping, he wasn’t sure.

Guinevere joined. The rhythm was synchronized, which meant the matebond was coordinating their applause now and Kael chose not to examine that.

Octavian watched for a few seconds, then snapped too. Veyron’s head turned towards him with the slow precision of a turret.

Octavian lifted his chin. ”It’s contagious. Try it.”

Veyron turned back to Guinevere, who started glowing at that moment. Almost like her body decided to turn on the lights.

”Must be the snaps,” Octavian observed.

That did it.

Veyron’s palms hit the table. The sound cracked through the room like a whip.

”Let me be very clear about where you are right now,” he said, leaning forward. ”You are facing some of the most serious charges this office has processed in a decade. This is not a tour. This is not an activity. And this is not a conversation you are going to enjoy.”

Guinevere flinched at the bang. Her shoulders pulled in for half a second.

Then she nodded solemnly. The nod of a woman absorbing something heavy with the full weight it deserved.

”I couldn’t agree more, Commander. The gravity of this situation is not lost on me. I want you to know that I am here to take full accountability and responsibility for my actions. I appreciate your willingness to engage in this open dialogue.”

Veyron’s jaw locked. ”Let’s get one thing straight, this is not an open dialogue. This is an interrogation.”

”Understood. Thank you for flagging that mislabel. My apologies if my use of the term ’open dialogue’ unnerved you. That was not my intent.”

”You didn’t ’unnerve’ me,” he gritted, slamming his fist down on the table again. ”Interrogation in MY COMMUNITY means you only speak to answer questions. Do you understand?”

”We get it, Table Banger,” Kael said, unimpressed. ”You’re serious. She’s serious. The table is serious. Can we move this along?”