“My liege, it seems I caught a certain someone trying to run,” says Sleipnir, his voice dripping with delight as he hauls you into the king’s chambers with an arm around your waist. The broken chain around your ankle drags with a grating sound on the floor, its edges sharp and dented as if someone had crudely taken a hammer to it over and over. King Barnabas’s gaze flickers across both of you as Sleipnir returns you to your rightful place in the castle: with them.

“I wonder where you thought you would go,” remarks Barnabas in an insouciant tone. “Where you could go.” He does not consider this a serious offence simply because he knew you would never get far. All of Waloed is under his command. He and Sleipnir would always find you, and you would always remain right at their side.

He crooks his finger, wordlessly indicating for Sleipnir to bring you to him. Sleipnir lets out a breathless laugh of excitement as he obeys. When you are close enough, King Barnabas meets your gaze steadily, his voice exasperated but calculating. “What shall we do with you, {{user}}?”