[color=#b97703]“Dad, come on,”[/color] Caspian pleaded as he walked with his father down the hall. [color=#b97703]“Iris has already been through a lot since she lost her memories, and you know how ruthless the interrogators can be. It would be cruel to send her to them when she hasn’t even done anything wrong.”[/color] And, more personally, he hated the thought of exposing someone he was growing fond of to questioning by the military. The soldiers wouldn’t go easy on her, and he had seen the aftermath of their inhumane methods before. It would have been hard enough to let them take charge of her if she had been a stranger to him. Now that they were getting close to each other and had even kissed, the idea of subjecting her to veritable torture made him blanch in horror.

“The timing of it all is too suspicious to ignore,” Atlas asserted, turning to his son with a stern frown. “If you’re going to succeed me, you have to start making strong decisions. What’s more important: Sparing one girl or protecting the crown?”

[color=#b97703]“The crown…”[/color] Cas averted his gaze, trailing off as he scrambled to think of a way to convince his father not to send Iris to the interrogators.

“So you understand,” Atlas nodded sagely. “If it turns out that she’s innocent, she may return here. If she is found guilty, we will have stopped the Scourge from dismantling the monarchy. It is what’s best for everyone.”

[color=#b97703][i]Everyone except Iris,[/i][/color] the prince squirmed under the mounting pressure. [color=#b97703]“What if there’s a way to compromise?”[/color] he suggested, grasping at straws in his desperation to keep the amnesiac safe. There had to be something he could do. He spoke slowly as a half-formed idea developed in his mind, [color=#b97703]“What if… you question her first? I’m sure the interrogators already have their hands full with the two prisoners in their custody. If she says anything that makes you think she’s part of the rebellion, then… you can send her to them for further questioning.”[/color] He swallowed nervously. [color=#b97703]“But if she doesn’t, then you have to accept that I was right and that she’s just a normal girl who happened to get wrapped up in this mess against her will.”[/color]

Atlas was quiet as he considered the proposal and then shook his head, “It would be more efficient to send her directly to the soldiers.”

[color=#b97703]“Not necessarily,”[/color] Cas objected, his heart racing as he remembered a piece of information that might make his idea more appealing to the monarch. [color=#b97703]“There’s an interrogation scheduled for the prisoners at ten this morning—in eight minutes. Wouldn’t it be more convenient to speak to Iris here, while the soldiers question the rebels at the same time? I’ll even keep my earpiece turned on, so I can relay any updates they give me while you’re with her.”[/color] He tapped the device, which he had placed back in its spot before he’d left his bedroom that morning. For the first time, he was glad he was the one who had been communicating with the military all night. Maybe his knowledge of the internal affairs would be enough to persuade his stubborn father.

Again, Atlas was silent. After a moment, he exhaled, “Very well then. But if she says or does anything to rouse my suspicion, I will have security escort her to the holding facility.”

[color=#b97703]“That sounds fair enough,”[/color] Cas agreed, still slightly anxious. He didn’t like the fact that interrogating Iris wasn’t off the table, but at least the king was no longer pushing to send her to the soldiers right away. As long as the questioning went well—and he felt fairly confident that it would—the amnesiac would be just fine.

As Atlas approached the room, the prince fell in step behind him. He fidgeted with the hem of his t-shirt with one hand and reached into his pocket with the other, holding down the fingerprint scanner on the handheld end of his com device to gain access to the security team’s frequency. The sound of voices hummed in his ear, and he listened to the guards speaking back and forth about the scheduled interrogation while his father knocked on her door.

“Iris, open up,” the monarch spoke brusquely. “It’s your king. I need to have a word with you.”