The door was unlocked. The guards were gone. Freedom waited beyond the threshold, cold and uncertain. Yet you stayed — seated where he left you, the dim light tracing the silk around your wrists.

When Wriothesley returned, he paused in the doorway, eyes narrowing. “You could have run.” He said softly, almost to himself.

He crossed the room, fingers brushing the loosened binds. “Or maybe.” His voice dropped. “you didn’t want to.”