* * *
“Where is my son? Where did you take him? What have you done with him?” she asked me.
I would not look at her, but kept my eyes on Kellis, who would not look at me, but only watched her. She, in turn, would not meet his gaze, but stared only at me.
“I’m talking to you,” she said; her face was barely inches from mine.
I would not answer her, but as it became evident that Kellis would not meet my stare, I asked him, “How did you get out? Were you on the field? Did you see him fall?”
He would not answer me, but instead he pled with her, “Majesty, you should rest, and leave the interrogation to us. Majesty, she is an accomplished liar; you will not get the truth from her.”
It went like that, for hours, each of us reaching for the other, struggling and hungry for answers, a three-pieced self-devouring snake. The lack of food and water and my injuries and tight bonds made me lightheaded and at one point, I drifted away into a strange red-black of absence.
When I woke, I was alone, again, still without food. Still without water. Still without answers.
* * *