Ask them some questions

“Alright, let’s not waste any more time. What did you do with the stolen amulet?”

“Amulet, what amulet?” the redhead asks.

“The one stolen from Duchess Selia’s palace.”

Taiyla looks up from the ground, huddled in her cloak: “That place is a fortress, why would we try to burgle it?!”

You shrug: “I don’t know, to show off elven superiority or something? Rebel against human overlordship?”

“Pft, stop living in the past,” the redhead scoffs, “that hasn’t been a thing in ages you dimwit.”

There’s a creaking sound before the redhead’s wicker chest armor suddenly bursts apart in a shower of shredded weave. Your time-stopped handiwork of course, with a trusty knife. You get another good look at her pale, pink-tipped breasts before she recovers enough from her stunned shock to throw her arms across her chest with a high-pitched screech.

You put a hand on your hip as you explain: “Every time I don’t get a straight answer to my questions or you’re being bratty, you lose a garment.”