The House of Control

The Interrogation Begins

The day stretched long as Master Jacob moved methodically through the barn quarters, questioning each laborer with the precision of a seasoned interrogator. The destroyed uniform was no small matter, and Jacob was determined to root out the one responsible. With the heavy silence hanging over the laborers and the knowledge that none of them would leave until the culprit was found, he sensed tension rising with each passing hour.

He had already questioned half of the group, his methods coldly efficient as he pried into their routines, their friendships, their rivalries. Rumors spread easily in The House, and he was counting on the fact that someone would eventually let slip a vital detail. He'd narrowed the suspects down to twenty people—a small group, but not small enough.

One by one, he called each of them into the makeshift office he'd set up in the barn, a cramped space with only a wooden table and two chairs.

The Interrogation of Harlan

A burly man with short, graying hair entered, his face tight with worry. Harlan had been a laborer here for years, his loyalty unquestioned—until today.

Jacob gestured for Harlan to sit, folding his hands on the table between them. "Harlan, explain to me where you were last night after the evening meal."

Harlan shifted uncomfortably. "In my cell, Master Jacob. I went straight there, didn't leave."

"Did you see anyone on your way?" Jacob's voice was calm, but his gaze was sharp, studying every flicker of movement in Harlan's expression.

Harlan shook his head quickly. "No, Master. Everyone went to bed early, as far as I know. It was a quiet night."

Jacob leaned in, his tone growing colder. "You didn't hear any movement, any strange sounds? Think carefully, Harlan."

Harlan hesitated, his eyes darting to the side before he looked back at Jacob. "I... thought I heard footsteps. Maybe. Could've been someone going to the bathroom, though. Didn't think much of it."

Jacob nodded slowly. "Footsteps. Was it someone passing by your cell?"

"Maybe, Master," Harlan replied, visibly sweating now. "I really didn't see anything, though."

With a slight nod, Jacob dismissed him. Harlan left quickly, his relief evident, but Jacob could tell there was no guilt there—only fear. Harlan was loyal, reliable. He crossed his name off the list.

The Interrogation of Mira

Next was Mira, a quiet woman in her mid-thirties with thin brown hair tied back in a neat bun. She sat across from Jacob, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her gaze steady.

"Mira," Jacob began, his voice measured, "tell me about your night after dinner."

Mira nodded, her voice calm. "I went back to my cell and read a bit—one of the old books we're allowed to have. Didn't leave the room until this morning."

Jacob raised an eyebrow. "Did you notice anything unusual? Any movement in the hall?"

She frowned thoughtfully. "No, Master. I didn't hear anything. But..." She paused, hesitating.

Jacob leaned forward, his gaze fixed on her. "Speak freely, Mira."

She glanced around nervously. "There's been... talk, Master. Some of the laborers—those who have been here longer—they didn't take well to Ty's promotion. I heard some grumbling yesterday."

"Names," Jacob said coldly, his gaze unrelenting.

Mira swallowed, her gaze dropping. "Harlan and Pike, mostly. I don't know if they would do anything, but... they're vocal. And they've been here so long they feel overlooked."

Jacob nodded, filing the information away. "Thank you, Mira. That will be all."

As Mira left, he made a note of her observations. Harlan was already off the list, but Pike—an older laborer with a temper—would need further questioning.

The Interrogation of Pike

Jacob had Pike brought in next, his posture tense as he sat down. Pike had a reputation for being outspoken, a quality that had earned him warnings in the past. But this was different.

"Pike," Jacob began, his voice low and controlled. "I hear you were displeased with Ty's promotion."

Pike scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. "Can't say it didn't sting, Master Jacob. I've worked here longer than anyone. Wasn't Ty who deserved that uniform."

Jacob's gaze turned steely. "You have a strong opinion, I see. Were you so displeased that you felt the need to express it more... directly?"

Pike's face tightened, and he shook his head firmly. "No, Master. I didn't do it. Ty's got nothing to worry about from me—I can handle disappointment."

Jacob studied him, noting the way Pike's shoulders hunched defensively, the faint bitterness in his tone. He suspected Pike had been telling the truth—he was prideful but not foolish enough to sabotage another's promotion.

He dismissed Pike and crossed his name off the list. The list was shrinking, but he still had work to do.

The Interrogation of Ron

At last, Jacob called in Ron.

Ron entered the room, his face tense and wary, though he met Jacob's gaze steadily as he took his seat.

"Ron," Jacob said, his voice chillingly calm, "where were you last night?"

Ron's jaw tightened, but he answered evenly. "I was in my cell, Master Jacob. Went straight there after dinner."

Jacob's gaze didn't waver. "Did you see or hear anything unusual?"

"No, Master." Ron's tone was level, almost too level. "It was quiet."

Jacob regarded him for a moment, letting the silence stretch, watching for any sign of discomfort or guilt. "You're sure about that?"

Ron held his gaze, his face carefully blank. "Yes, Master. I didn't see or hear anything."

Jacob let the silence linger, noting the tension in Ron's shoulders, the slight defiance in his eyes. Something felt off. Ron's reputation as a hothead wasn't lost on him—nor was his close connection to Harry, who had clearly moved on to a higher standing within The House. It was possible Ron's pride had taken a hit from Ty's promotion, enough to make him lash out in frustration.

"Ron," Jacob said, his voice softer but no less intense. "I need you to understand that if I find you had anything to do with this, the punishment will be severe. It's not only Ty's uniform you've damaged; it's the reputation of The House."

Ron's face remained impassive, though Jacob could sense the tension simmering beneath his composed exterior. "I understand, Master. I know what's at stake."

Jacob nodded, studying him a moment longer. He wasn't convinced of Ron's innocence, not entirely, but he would wait before making any decisions. There were still others to question, and if Ron was responsible, there would be clues—small, telling details left in his wake.

"Very well," Jacob said finally. "You're dismissed."

Ron left the room, and Jacob sat back, his mind racing as he reviewed the information he'd gathered throughout the day. Each account, each reaction had given him pieces of the puzzle, and he was certain he was close to the answer.

With a narrowed gaze, he looked down at his list, only a handful of names remaining. The day had given him insight into the loyalties and grudges simmering among the laborers, and he knew that, soon enough, the truth would reveal itself.

And when it did, whoever had dared to challenge The House's authority would learn just how unforgiving his wrath could be.