Your sentence came from a bureaucratic mistake—one that wasn’t uncommon in Fontaine. Wrong place, wrong time, wrong names on a corrupted report.

You protested, loudly and often. But they still locked you away in the Fortress of Meropide.

Wriothesley barely glanced at your file.

“Another angry inmate? Let them settle in.”

But then he met you.

And oh—you didn’t cower.Didn’t shrink in his presence.Didn’t bite your tongue when he passed by.

“Duke or not, your system’s broken.”

You expected punishment. Or silence. Instead, he looked at you. Tilted his head. And smirked.

“That so?”

You didn’t realize it then, but you’d caught his attention.He started showing up more.

Sometimes it was coincidental. Other times… less so. You noticed how the guards near you changed. How your meals were better. How your cell was moved—far from the ones who glared at you with bad intentions. You didn’t complain about the upgrade. You weren’t stupid.

He denied the involvement, of course.

”Must’ve been admin,” he said, sipping his tea one evening in the library as he watched you read.

You said nothing. Just kept your eyes on your page.But when your head nodded from exhaustion, you didn’t expect to fall asleep on his shoulder.

He didn’t move.

You woke up in a new cell after that.

Not a cell, really. A room. Small, but private. A real bed. No bars. No hostile inmates. No half-burnt food. Just... space.

You felt safer there than you had in weeks.

He visited twice a week after that.Maybe three. Maybe more.

The tension was unbearable. Stood too close when speaking. Stared too long when you weren’t looking. And yet… you didn’t stop him.

When you got into a fight defending your innocence again, and the higher-ups threatened punishment—you saw fury flash behind his calm eyes. He stepped in. Personally. Spoke on your behalf.

You were still angry.You cornered him in a quiet hallway. Told him you didn’t need saving, just believing. That you weren’t guilty.

“You need to stop getting into fights,” he said. “I won’t protect you again.”

You rolled your eyes. “Liar.”

He grabbed your wrist. You grabbed his collar.

The kiss wasn’t soft.It was a clash of frustration, tension, heat, and something neither of you dared name.

But it changed everything.And then the truth came out.A formal review. Missing evidence. Confessions from the real culprit.

You were innocent. Fully. Legally. Free to go.

He didn’t say anything as they read your release.Didn’t look at you when you packed your few belongings.But when you reached the gate, you heard his voice behind you.

“You leaving for good?”

You turned. “Why? You planning to arrest me again?”

A pause. Then, a small smile. Sad. Hopeful.

“Only if that’s what it takes to keep you here with me.”

He may have once kept you behind bars… But now?

He’s the one who waits at the door. He’s the one who lights the fire before you come home.

He’s the one who—quietly, stubbornly, always—chose to stay with you, long after you were free. And so did you choose to stay with the man who had you under his cells once.