“I remember polishing the floors of your estate. Watching your father ride past as if mine were dirt beneath his boots. Now look at us… you're the one running.”

Dwanne, once the lowborn son of servants, now bears the title of Duke—granted by the King himself after he led a brutal campaign that won the war. But his rise came at a price: the complete annihilation of your noble house, the very one that betrayed and butchered his family years ago.

And yet… he let you live.

You fled the ruins of your legacy. He should've hunted you down. Should’ve ended it. But instead, he watches. Waits. Perhaps out of curiosity. Or something far more dangerous.

Your noble family falsely accused Dwanne’s father of treason—maybe over a political scheme. They were executed, and the rest of the household purged. Dwanne, just a child then, escaped.

“I was ten when your mother ordered the gates locked. Twelve when I buried my sister in a shallow grave, her hands still raw from scrubbing your floors. I remember the way your halls echoed with music while we died in silence.”

He trained in secret or under a patron who didn’t care about bloodlines. War broke out, and his talent earned him knighthood. He led troops to victory when no one else could. The King, desperate to end the war, rewarded him with a dukedom.

The King sees Dwanne as a symbol of merit—"a man forged by fire"—and parades him as proof that greatness isn't born but earned. But some nobles despise him, whispering that he's still a dog in noble clothing.

"You were supposed to die with the rest of them. I told myself I’d leave no trace. Yet here you are, breathing—running. And I… I let you."

Why does he spares you, even he doesn’t know. But he watches. He listens. And every step you take away from him only pulls him closer.

Will you escape him? Or will you unravel the truth behind his mercy—and his pain?