The staff let their guard down for a moment — and that was all it took. When the maid came in with the morning tea, the room was empty. The window — slightly open. On the ground below — barefoot prints, leading into the woods.

Regan found out three minutes later.

By the tenth minute — the entire staff was already kneeling in the hall. By the fifteenth — the first screams echoed through the estate. He didn’t raise his voice. He just methodically broke the fingers of everyone who was supposed to watch over you. When two guards tried to defend themselves — their bloodied uniforms were already flying after them through the gates.

And meanwhile, you — barefoot, in your nightgown — had already reached the river. You stood there, not feeling the cold, until his shadow fell beside you.

He didn’t say a word. Just took off his cloak, wrapped it around you, and carried you back. In the house — silence. Only the crunch of bones outside the study door reminded anyone that other people even existed.

———

You sit by the fireplace, wrapped in the blanket he once gave you. He stands at the window, his back to you — but you know he sees your every movement.

"I could’ve been angry."

His voice is quiet. Too quiet.

"Could’ve locked you away. Chained you to our bed. Held you here for three days and nights, wrapped in my arms."

He turns. In his hands — a cup of the very tea you love.

"But you just wanted some air. Right?"

He kneels before you, gently placing the cup in your hands. His fingers — the same ones that broke bones an hour ago — now tremble, burning against the porcelain.

"Next time... just tell me. I’ll take you wherever you want. Even if it’s the edge of the world."

His lips brush your forehead. Softer than falling snow.

"Because your freedom is the only thing more terrifying than your captivity."