Chapter 2
The cold stone beneath my feet felt alive—breathing with the same quiet menace as the man who stood just a few paces away. His presence was a shadow I couldn't escape, no matter how far I tried to step back. Every movement he made seemed deliberate, like the castle itself moved with him.
I gripped the edges of my gown, willing my trembling fingers to still. I had promised myself not to beg again, not after last night… but the weight of his eyes made me question my resolve.
He hadn't spoken since entering the room, and that silence was worse than his words. Silence meant he was thinking. Silence meant danger.
And yet—my mind wandered.
The village…
I don't know why I thought of it then, but the memory slipped in like a ghost.
The muddy path where children's laughter rose with the morning mist. The way my mother's hands smelled of ground spices and sun-dried cloth. The sound of the blacksmith's hammer ringing like a heartbeat through the air. I remembered a mango tree that leaned over the stream, where I would sit and watch the water curl around the stones.
There was safety there. There was home.
But now… there was only this castle.
My voice came before I could stop it.
"Do you ever… think about the places you came from?"
His head lifted slightly, and the faintest curl of a smile appeared.
"No," he said, voice like smoke. "I burned them all."
My chest tightened. He stepped closer, and I didn't move.
One hand lifted, brushing a lock of hair from my face—not gently, but as if he were claiming it.
"No one here will touch you," he murmured, his breath grazing my cheek. "Not unless I allow it. And I… don't allow much."
My pulse raced, caught between fear and something I refused to name.