Chapter 30 -
Returning to the Knights’ headquarters, Amon wasted no time heading for the basement.
Descending the narrow staircase, the air grew heavier with each step. A faint presence flickered beyond the iron door of the detention room.
'There’s only supposed to be one active interrogation room down here.'
The building's sole detainee, Hayden, was most likely the suspect inside. But the question gnawed at Amon’s mind—who was interrogating him?
He pushed the door open to find Carlyle seated opposite Hayden.
“You’ve arrived, Captain.”
Carlyle stood and saluted, his formal tone a sharp contrast to his usual informality. Amon gave a brisk nod, lingering by the doorway.
“Step outside with me.”
“Yes, sir.”
Carlyle followed Amon into the dimly lit hallway. Their voices dropped to a murmur, the faint flicker of a torch their only witness.
“What’s the situation?” Amon asked, his voice low.
Carlyle shrugged, the nonchalance in his demeanor not quite masking his unease. “He came to his senses. I brought him here for questioning immediately.”
“Did he give you anything useful?”
“Not a word.”
“Does he seem… frightened?”
Carlyle paused, his lips pursed. “Shaken, perhaps. But not terrified. If anything, he’s trying too hard to look composed.”
Amon exhaled sharply, a sound of both frustration and resignation. Hayden’s abrupt recovery from his earlier disarray felt calculated. “I’ll take over. You’re dismissed.”
Carlyle grinned, relief seeping into his posture.
“Gladly. Interrogation is not my forte.”
He stretched, already halfway up the stairs.
“Good luck, Captain."
"Oh, and… thanks for protecting the lady.”
With a lazy wave, he disappeared, leaving Amon alone in the suffocating quiet of the basement. For a brief moment, Amon stood still, drawing in a steadying breath. When he stepped into the interrogation room, the chill of the air wrapped around him like a shroud.
The room was stark—cold steel walls and dim lighting. Hayden sat at the center, his hands shackled to the chair’s legs. His disheveled hair cast shadows over his pale face. Though Amon’s entrance was anything but subtle, Hayden didn’t lift his gaze from the floor.
Taking the chair opposite him, Amon studied the man. Gone was the erratic behavior from earlier. Hayden now resembled a fortress, each wall meticulously constructed to deflect any assault.
Amon broke the silence with measured calm.
“How are you feeling?”
No response. Hayden’s eyes remained glued to the floor, his expression unreadable.
Amon leaned back, observing the younger man’s defiance. He shifted tactics.
“Julia Reitz failed to murder Russell Bolev.”
The statement pierced the silence. Hayden’s head snapped up, his surprise betraying him before he quickly masked it again.
“She used the passage you described,” Amon continued, “but by the time she arrived, Russell was already dead.”
“…”
“That means the real killer is someone else. You are not guilty of his murder.”
Hayden’s scoff broke the tension like a sharp crack. “Do you think I’m a fool? Spinning lies to get what you desire won’t work.”
“I am not here to punish you,” Amon said firmly. “I just want the truth.”
Hayden’s only response was a low hum, defiance laced in every note. Amon let out a slow breath, his patience wearing thin.
'This isn’t working.'
He shifted forward, his voice softening. “Do you remember when we first met, Hayden? It was long before either of us had any titles or burdens.”
That caught Hayden’s attention. His gaze flicked to Amon, cautious but curious.
“We were children. At a garden party, I recall. I was hiding from my parents, and you had escaped your nanny.”
“…”
“You were frail back then, or at least that’s what everyone thought.”
Hayden’s lip twitched. “I wasn’t frail. I hated swords. That’s all.”
Amon allowed himself a faint smile. “Yes. You told me that too. You preferred books to blades, even if it disappointed your father.”
The memories seemed to chip away at Hayden’s defenses. His shoulders relaxed, ever so slightly.
“I remember thinking you were free,” Amon continued. “But then, you vanished—confined to some estate far from the capital.”
“Those days are gone,” Hayden muttered. Yet his voice lacked its earlier venom.
“I thought the same. Back then, I believed my family’s happiness would last forever. I didn’t know it would all be taken in one night.”
A flicker of shock crossed Hayden’s face. “Taken?”
“My parents were murdered,” Amon said, his tone even but heavy. “By the same person who killed Russell.”
“Murdered? But I heard—”
“That it was illness? No. It was murder. And I intend to find the killer.”
Hayden studied Amon, suspicion warring with something deeper. Amon pressed forward, his voice steady.
“Help me. Not to save yourself, but to bring the real culprit to justice.”
After a long pause, Hayden whispered, “What do you want to know?”
Relief surged through Amon, but he kept his composure.
“You told Julia about the passage. Did you tell anyone else?”
“I did,” Hayden admitted, his voice trembling. “I begged and begged, implored for my brother to be killed. Then, an angel appeared. They… they promised to help me.”
An angel? Did he mean Julia?
"So I told them the passageway. Before you or she came."
Amon clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. Just a little more patience, and he’d learn the culprit’s name.
“Who is that person?” Amon asked, his heart racing.
Hayden opened his mouth to speak but suddenly froze. He turned sharply to Amon, his face pale.
“Could it be…? Are you saying that angel is the killer? That they… killed my brother?”
“Please, just tell me. Just one word.”
Hayden’s face hardened. Amon realized the door to his heart had slammed shut once more.
Fighting his rising anxiety, Amon spoke gently.
“Hayden?”
“I…”
Hayden’s gaze shifted past Amon to the empty wall. His expression twisted with fear.
Not unlike the look he’d given Julia, but far worse.
"Scary..."
"Whoever it is, they will not find out about this. I promise on the name..."
"No."
Hayden hesitated, fear darkening his expression. “They’re not an angel,” he murmured, almost to himself. “They’re…”
“Just the name,” Amon urged. “Who are they?”
But Hayden’s eyes darted wildly, as though seeing something invisible to Amon. “Scary… so scary…”
“Hayden!” Amon reached for him, but the younger man suddenly convulsed, his face twisting in terror. Grabbing the glass of water, Hayden drained it in one gulp—then collapsed, the chair crashing to the floor.
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