CHAPTER 16

Saturday, the 7th of December

Henri Pemberton, Viscount Enfield

"And tell me," Sable says, leaning towards me, "Have you been to many family events in the last few years? Weddings, birthdays, the like. It must have been difficult for you to attend while in Illéa."

I bit the inside of my cheek before answering. Engaging in a pleasant discussion with Sable isn't my idea of a nice Saturday morning. Of course, I didn't have much choice in the matter. At least this time I wasn't escorted down here by a guard or even worse, the Queen. They seemed to trust me enough to show up to my own interrogation appointments. I guess that was nice of them. I'm not stupid, I know the Schreaves are being kinder to me than anyother royal family would be.

It doesn't really help though.

"Hm?" Sable prompts, the unsaid threat hanging in the air between us.

"Sometimes. I go to all of the weddings and christenings. It depends on birthdays. It's not like Illéa where there is a ball for everyone's birthday." I say, giving her what I hope is enough information. I haven't been able to figure out what Sable is doing with all my answers. She's yet to ask about anything directly relating to the matter, instead focusing on broader aspects of my life.

"How are they?" Sable asks, pouring herself a cup of coffee. "Do you want any?"

"No, thank you." I answer politely. I haven't had breakfast yet as it was still the early hours of the morning, and I didn't think I could stomach having coffee when I was already so nervous. It was probably best not to risk it.

"Of course." Sable answers. "Now, how were the weddings?" She asks, going back to her original question, obviously having grown tired of asking me if I watched anything to drink. This was probably much less exciting than the cases she usually handles. I'm sure she was getting bored of making polite small talk, asking seemingly inconspicuous questions.

I sigh before giving her an answer, "They were fine. Long and boring, but it's part of life. It was nice to see my whole family. That's very rare."

"Yes, I suppose you don't see much of them these days. How does that make you feel?" Sable questions tapping one of her fingers against the amr of her chair. The chairs we had used last time had been exchanged for plusher ones, and a coffee table had been set up in the center. Someone had even hung art up on the walls, smudges of color that really didn't resemble anything at all. It still had the appearance of a high-security holding cell, but I appreciated the effort to make it seem less frightening.

"How does it make me feel?" I repeat, surprised at her question.

"Yes." Sable answers simply, looking me dead in the eye.

God, this woman was scary.

"I don't know. I guess it's sad, but I don't really think about it that much. I still talk to my family over the phone. Maybe it's for the better," I add softly at the end, not intending Sable to hear. I had forgotten how much the room echoes though, so of course she does.

"Now why would you say that?" Sable asks me.

"Well, it's probably easier for me to have a more normal life in Illéa." I tell her vaguely.

Sable doesn't buy it though. She leans forward, grabbing my wrist was a surprising amount of strength. I don't try to pull away. She has the power in this room, and it's best to go along with what she wants. "You're lying." Sable states simply.

"I'm...I'm not." I mutter quietly.

"Yes, you are. My offer still stands," Sable says vaguely, her eyes not leaving my face. I know what her threats mean. Like she told me the first time I met her, I can either talk with her or I can talk with the guards. I know which one will turn out worse for me. I would have to be an idiot to not agree to her terms. "So why don't we try that again?"

"Sorry." I say quietly, my cheeks burning. "I just meant, if Edmund -my cousin- was willing to risk launching a war with Illéa while I was here, maybe it's better if I stay in Illéa. They must not like me all that much."

Sable studies my face, my answer clearly not being enough for her. "Is there more?" She was really paying attention to a few wrong words on my part. I guess that's what I get for not realizing just how much the room echoes.

"Well, not really." I stammer. Sable makes a go-on motion with her hand, not leaving me much of a choice. "Okay. None of my extended family did much for me during the...the lawsuit with my father. I guess, now that this happened, it's pretty safe to say that they don't really care about me." I say, regretting the words as they leave my mouth.

Sable looks utterly unimpressed by my statement. "What makes you say that? You really believe that they don't care?" Her voice is cold as she asks me, and I grimace.

"I...I guess I do." I say, "I don't... Why don't you just tell me what you want to hear from me and it will save us both the trouble?" I finally say, my feelings from the last sessions finally rising from the surface. I was sick and tired of Sable skirting around my life as it was a map she was trying to explore. Not to mention the constant threats she gave me, almost as if at any moment I would refuse to participate and I needed to be constantly reminded of what would happen if I didn't play along.

I know that I shouldn't blame it on her. She's doing her job, and I might not like her methods, I might not like being on the receiving end of her work, but it was for national security. I shouldn't dislike her for trying to help her country.

But I do. It's wrong and I don't like the feeling, but it's true. I don't want to have to do this. I don't want to sit here before the sun has even cleared the horizon and have to answer increasingly invasive answers about my life. I might not blame Sable for her job, but I certainly don't appreciate what she's doing to me.

"What did you say?" Sable asks, her face impassive. She doesn't look outwardly offended or even mildly disgruntled by my outburst, leading me to think that she often has to deal with people far worse than me.

"Nothing, nevermind." I backtrack quickly.

"No. I want to know what you said. So, Henri, why don't you repeat it for me?"

"I didn't mean it. I'm sorry." I apologize quickly, hoping that she won't force the issue. She might not forgive, but just maybe she could forget about it.

"Might I remind you that your cooperation is necessary? If you won't give me answers, Henri, then you'll be transferred to someone else. And I can assure you that you don't want that." Sable says quietly, her voice cold and emotionless.

"I know," I answer.

"Good. You'd do well to remember that." Sable checks the time on her watch, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "I think it would be best if we end for today."

I stand up quickly, "Thank you. Have a nice day." Sable simply nods, watching me walk out of the room.

"Oh," She says, her words halting me as I almost reach the door. "I suggest that you consider my words over the weekend. I wouldn't want this to be any harder than it has to be."

My cheeks flushing a deep red, I nod quickly. "Of course. See you on Monday."

After breakfast, Miss Van Der Witts has me and Divesh come to another one of her ridiculous lessons on our speech. After the first one she started to talk to us individually, except for me and Divesh of course because she was trying to accomplish the same goal with us. I would have thought that she would have chosen not to tutor us on a Saturday morning, but what do I know? Maybe she gets bored sitting around on the weekends and wants to have something to do.

"How much do you want to bet she makes us watch one of those kiddie movies?" I ask Divesh as we make our way to the small room that Miss Van Der Witts uses for this. The ones with the creepy paintings of old men.

"I'm not taking that bet," Divesh says, shaking his head slightly. "We're probably going to have to finish Blue. I never thought that I would get sick of it"

"Me either, but I guess neither of us ever envisioned this."

"I..I didn't." Divesh tells me, waiting by the door for Miss Van Der Witts who likes to arrive right on the verge of being late. Of course, if any of us tried that at one of her classes she would humiliate us in front of the entire group, but I guess she has a different set of rules for herself. She's still technically on time, so there's nothing to complain about, but it's a bit aggravating watching it play out over and over again.

"Who could've?" I ask, more to myself then Divesh. Subconsciously, I was probably talking more about the morning that I had spent with Sable rather than having to go to speech classes to get rid of my accent. Though considering the fact that my family was on the brink of declaring war with Illéa, maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to blend in a bit.

"Yeah. I don't know…" Divesh's voice trails off, "Are you okay?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, wondering how much of my frustration I had let slip into my voice. I don't want Divesh's pity, and more than that, I don't think that the royal family would be all too pleased at me spilling the state secrets to another selected.

"You just...nevermind. Lady Van Der Witts is here," Divesh says, gesturing down the hall to where Miss Van Der Witts is walking briskly towards us. Her outfit is typical of her. A bright red velvet dress with long sleeves. It was a bit fancy, a bit extravagant for a regular day, but I wasn't going to be the one to tell her that.

I nod silently, pressing my lips together. Luckily, I don't have to respond as once Miss Van Der Witts sees us, she does all the talking for us. "Good. You two are here. Punctuality is a virtue, that's what I always say. You're doing far better than some of the others. One of the boys, Nyson, has shown up late to each and every one of our meetings. It is getting very upsetting. It's good to know that some of you all have manners." Miss Van Der Witts says as she opens the door to the room, gesturing us in.

I grimace at her words, Divesh, however answers her. "Maybe he gets lost," he supplies. I don't disagree with him, but I really don't think that's correct. It could just be because I already knew the layout of the palace before the selection, but I think that in almost a month most of the guys would have started to find their way around, or, if they couldn't, at least learn to leave enough time to get there so they wouldn't be late.

"I doubt it." Miss Van Der Witts states matter-of-factly, gently placing her handbag on a chair. It looks as if it was never used, the clasps still shining brightly. The bag seems to suit her, it's somewhat refined, luxurious, and well, very elitist. I know that bag. My mother had one gifted to her by a designer earlier this year, before they reached the stores. Judging on the look of the bag, I'd say that Miss Van Der Witts had just gotten her's.

I wasn't quite sure what the price tag on the bag was, but I knew it must be hefty. From what I've heard Miss Van Der Witts got a large settlement from her first divorce, but still. Exactly how much is the palace paying her to put on these stupid lessons?

I know they're supposed to be beneficial for us all, that the classes are supposed to help all of us, even me, improve our manners and decorum. It just doesn't feel right that Miss Van Der Witts gets to do what can be equated to terrorizing us for her paycheck.

Maybe I'd ask the Queen how much Miss Van Der Witts' paychecks add up to. We seem to be seeing a lot of each other these days.

"Henri?" Miss Van Der Witts prompts, looking at me. Shoot. I must have missed a question that she had asked me.

"She asked you how your weekend is going." Divesh says quietly from my left. Due to some combination of luck, this room doesn't echo just as much as the one I was in earlier did. Good thing for that.

"It's fine. I had a nice morning. I got to sleep late." I answer her, lying through my teeth. I know I'm not the world's best liar, but it's a plausible story and Miss Van Der Witts seems to buy it.

At least, she doesn't comment on it. "That's a good start. Can you try that again?"

"Excuse me?" I ask, wondering what it was that I could have done in my answer to upset her. There's really just no pleasing people today.

"Just repeat your statement with an Illéan accent, please. I think it would be best to try to work in some more practice during everyday conversations." Judging by Divesh's flushed cheeks, he had to go through this while I was wondering about how much Miss Van Der Witts is paid. I feel bad. I didn't mean for him to be embarrassed in front of me when I wasn't even listening.

"Right. Sorry." I say, clearing my throat before trying. " It was fine. I had a nice morning. I got to sleep late." I recite in a probably rather funny attempt at an Illéan accent. Miss Van Der Witts' face doesn't move, bur Divesh tries to stifle his laugh, failing miserably.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh at you." Divesh apologizes quickly.

I shake my head slightly, "I sure it was very funny." I mutter bitterly. I'm not upset at Divesh, which he probably believes as his face turns an even deeper red. I'm mad at Miss Van Der Witts for having to make us humiliate ourselves like this. What I wouldn't give to have private lessons like Nyson or Micheal.

It's not that I don't like Divesh. He's nice, and frankly, he was pleasant towards me when no one else was. I just don't like making a fool in front of myself in front of anyone, let alone Divesh. Maybe it's better though, Miss Van Der Witts attention won't be focused solely on me. And if she did feel like being well…less than polite, I would always have someone else in the room with me.

It probably is better this way. I don't know why I'm being so negative today.

"Those were fine. A bit...of an exaggeration of the language, but it is a good start for both of you. I expect great things in the coming months. Now, I have a question for both of you before we begin the film. It is rather personal, so if you do not wish to answer please let me know."

Divesh doesn't move. "What is it?" I ask, fiddling with my hands in my lap.

"It would be unwise for me to dedicate so much time to someone who might be eliminated next week. So, I am going to ask you to be honest with me. How do you both believe that your relationship with her highness is as of now?" Miss Van Der Witts asks, looking like she's eagerly anticipating our responses.

Divesh swallows nervously, not looking like he knows what to say. I'll go first. I like going first, it removes the stress. "I don't know. It's hard to tell where the princess's mind is at with me." I say vaguely.

Miss Van Der Witts nods, turning to Divesh. "And you?"

"Me?" Divesh splutters, looking concerned.

"Yes. You."

"Well...I agree with Henri. I don't know how she feels about me. I honestly have no clue. She could hate me for all I know." Divesh says quickly, the words pouring out of his mouth. He's clearly nervous, but I don't say anything. I wouldn't want to upset him further.

"So you both don't know where you stand." Miss Van Der Witts repeats. "RIght. That's what I expected for the most part."

"No problem." I mutter, loud enough for her to hear.

Miss Van Der Witts smiles at both of us, "Now let's start the film and we should be finished in time for both of you to head to lunch. I'd hate to keep you over." And, I'm sure, she'd hate for the Queen to send a butler to go find us again like what happened when Miss Van Der Witts forced us all to walk down the stairs time and time again. She doesn't want to give up her job in the palace, so she'll play along by the Queen's rules, like everyone else here.

Probably a smart move on her part. Say what you will about our teachers, but Miss Van Der Witts is clearly more competent than Mr. Brooms, no offense to him.

The movie she plays for us is mildly entertaining on a good day. By now, the third time Divesh and I are forced to watch it, I almost want to fall asleep. Miss Van Der Witts seems to be under the impression that the voice actor of the main character has the ideal accent for us to attempt to imitate, hence us having to watch this silly film repeatedly.

I don't understand why we can't just watch another movie that has the actor. I get the feeling that this is her way of continuing to display her dislike for me, and Divesh by association.

I feel bad for him, but there's nothing else I can do. It's not like I can disagree with her lesson plans -which, I hate to admit, seem to be working- on the basis that she hates me. It would be silly to even consider it.

So we sit in relative silence, trying our best not to let our eyes stray from the screen that Miss Van Der Witts had positioned.

"This was a stupid idea." Tex informs me, glaring at me from the other side of the table we had claimed in the library to work on. Our project was going less than swimmingly and once again, I can't help but wish that I had been paired with anyone else. If only Mr. Brooms had decided that Tex and Nishav should work together instead of forcing me to work with him. Or, if I could have worked with Nishav since technically he was alphabetically next to me.

But no, instead I have to work with Tex.

"I don't think it's a stupid idea." I respond easily, trying not to let him see how much he's aggravating me. God, this guy has some serious problems.

"Of course you don't. It's your idea." Tex grumbles, crossing his arms in front of his chest. I ignore him continuing to search something up on my laptop. Well, I suppose it really isn't mine. It belongs to the palace. Plus, I'm fairly sure that the security bureau is tracking my search history. If that's how they want to spend their time, I guess they can. What can I do about it?

"Gee thanks." I answer, trying my best to tune him out. "Do you have any better ideas?"

"No, but if I had known how bad this was going to turn out I would have come up with something else." Tex states.

Now that was rude. Our project was actually coming along fairly well. We had written blurbs about the subway system and the public bus system, separately of course. Now we just needed to finish with the trains and stick it all on the poster board. I guess that's where Tex's fit is coming from. I get the feeling that he thinks he would do a much better job at it than me, but he doesn't want me to end up doing less work than him.

Which is why we're now engaged in an argument in the middle of the library.

"If you come up with something in the next few days, let me know." I tell him, hoping that this will be the end of the story.

Of course, Tex doesn't drop it that easily.

"Why did you even want to do it on this in the first place?" Tex asks.

"I don't know, Tex. It was what I came up with. If you didn't like it then you should have said something days ago." I answer, typing things into my laptop just to delete them. Tex wouldn't let me write anything without his approval, and according to what I've heard from the past few days, I'm a bit of a people-pleaser. It's a change to actually try to aggravate him, but, seeing Tex grow increasingly annoyed as I click on random keys is somewhat satisfying.

"But why did you even come up with it? You couldn't think of anything better?" Tex presses.

"No. I couldn't. Happy?" I finally say, having heard enough of Tex's complaining over the last quarter of an hour.

"No. I'm not. We're going to fail because of you." Tex says, looking happy that he got that off his chest.

"Oh my God, Tex. If you had just let us do the judicial system like every other group, then we wouldn't be in this situation." I finally say. How could Tex honestly believe that it wasn't his fault?

"Fine." Tex finally says, "Let me type the part about the trains. I don't want you to mess it up any further," with that, Tex opens his laptop and begins to type furiously. I consider leaving, but that would be rude to Tex, and say what you will about him, I'm not going to sink to his level. I might not be the best person in the world, but I like to think that I'm not as big as a jerk of Tex. If I get up now and leave him to type our paper by himself, I would just be contradicting myself. I'm not going to do that.

"Are you just going to sit here the whole time?" Tex asks, not taking his eyes off the laptop in front of him. He sounds annoyed at my presence, well, more annoyed than he already was. I didn't know that was possible, but I guess I was wrong.

"Yes." I answer firmly. I wish I could go on my phone, but since the Queen hadn't provided me with one when she gave me my laptop, I was a bit out of luck there. I'm sure if I asked she would give me a phone, but I didn't want to have to go around begging like the sad little prisoner that I am.

"Suit yourself." Tex tells me before resuming his work on the computer. I don't have much else to do, so in a moment of utter boredom I stand up to go find a book on the shelves of the library. It's a good thing there are a lot of choices. Probably at least half of every book published in Illéa had been in the library to some point. I know that they do cleanouts every year and donate the rejected books to charity, meaning that many more books have sat in this room than it looks like.

I skip the fantasy aisle and walk past the romance section. I don't want to read any books in another language either, considering the fact that I can barely speak French. The library is fairly empty as it always is, considering the miniscule amount of people who actually have access to it. That's why it's a surprise to see Bas looking through the art books.

Here's another person I can add to the list of people I'd rather work with.

"Oh, Henri." Bas says, hearing my footsteps. "What are you doing here?"

"Working on my project with Tex." I answer, not missing the face Bas makes at the name Tex. "I take it you don't like him?"

Bas huffs a breath, "Who could? He's a jerk."

"Don't I know it." I say quietly, more to myself than to Bas. "What are you doing here?" I ask, quickly changing the subject. I'm done feeling sorry for myself today. Whether it be with Sable, Miss Van Der Witts, being in a discussion with Tex, or even having to talk about Tex. I think I reached my limit for today.

"Oh, I wanted to get some books on art history. I mean, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity right? Might as well look around." Bas says, picking up a few heavy looking books. "Here, let's head back to a table or something."

"Is art history interesting?" I ask, not knowing much about the subject.

Bas considers my question for a moment, "I'm not sure. I like looking at how the paintings changed over the years, the art styles and colors and everything, but the reading of actual time periods is a bit of a bore." Bas finally answers, shrugging.

"Oh. I get that." I say. "I've never been much of an art person, but I've been to a few gallery openings over the years." To be quite honest, I didn't like them all that much. It wasn't that the paintings were bad exactly. I'm sure that they were great works of art and that the details were immaculate, they just didn't interest me.

"Huh. I would have pegged you as an art lover." Bas notes. "You look like one."

For the first time today, I chuckle. "What's that supposed to mean?" I never really considered what type of person I looked like but I wouldn't have chosen art of all things. Paintings had never quite captured my interests for more than a few minutes. They were nice to have hanging up, but I didn't feel a need to study them.

"Nothing. I hate to stereotype people, actually, I hate stereotypes in general, but you look like someone who would love to collect art." Bas tells me, looking somewhat apologetic. I'm not sure what he means by it, but I don't think it's anything bad.

"I guess that's nice of you to say." I answer, sitting down in my designated chair across from Tex. Bas pulls over a chair, inviting himself to sit with us.

"Oh. You're back." Tex doesn't look all too happy at that notion. "And you brought Bas. What's with all the art books anyway?" He asks, turning his attention from me to Bas, who had dropped his books on the table with a rather large bang.

"I wanted to look through them. My mom had been going on about the books in this library since the beginning of time." Bas answers, clearly trying to be cheerful.

"Which of your moms?" I ask, curious about what it is that Sable Reddlyn does in her time when she's not trying to get information out of me. What I know of her could fill a thimble. In all the time we spend together she never liked to answer questions about herself. Which makes sense since she's supposed to be interrogating me, but it's still frustrating.

"Esme. Esme Monroe." Bas answers easily.

Oh. So much for that theory. "What does your other mom do?" I ask, hoping my voice pulls off a suitable amount of genuinity. "What's her name...Sable Reddlyn?"

"Yeah. She works for the security bureau. I actually don't know much about what she does," Bas admits. "She's actually in the palace now, some annual conference. I saw her last night. Hey, do you want to meet her?" Bas offers. "Maybe she can actually answer your questions."

Aoh. ai guess I was right in my first assumption that Bas is clueless when it comes to his mother's actual job. Not that I can blame him or her. It probably wouldn't be the best idea to have your children know details about your work life that could put them in harm's way. Say what you will about Sable, but I'm sure she loves Bas. Much more than either of my parents love me.

I pause, not wanting to be rude, but, at the same time I really don't want to have to spend more time with her then I already do. "I don't want to bother her." I say, shaking my hand.

"I'm sure she won't mind."

"No. Seriously, Bas, it's fine. Just forget about it." I say firmly.

Bas frowns slightly but agrees.

Good thing for that.

A/N: Hello everyone, I hope you are having a great day. I worked on my outline, and it brings me great pain to inform you all that the Christmas chapter will not come out on Christmas. I know, I know. It's very sad. Logan wrote a fabulous one shot about this story in an among us AU which I appreciated very much :uwu: Okay, that's all I have to say. Have a great week and I will see you all on Friday with another chapter.