Ambrose paced the room, arms folded behind him and face set in a scowl. The thief sitting before him was not terrified in the slightest. she didn’t even look upset. No, she was just lounging back in her wooden chair, toying with her bracelet and humming quietly. He suddenly slammed his hand onto the chair, letting his long fingers curl around its arm. He reveled in the brief look of alarm that crossed her face — though it was only a few seconds. “You’re a peculiar little thing, aren’t you?” He commented, looking her over once more.