The bell above the little shop door chimed softly.

You barely glanced up from the flowers you were arranging. A year of peace had taught you not to fear every stranger that crossed your path. A year of living under a different name, far from the capital, far from the nobility, far from him.

Far from Damien Von Thisse.

The Duke's attention had become an obsession, one that no amount of dignity or refusal could quell. Everyone had mourned the unfortunate death of the Viscount's child. Your tragic accident. No body recovered. A sorrowful tale.

So you disappeared, letting the world believe you were dead.

You thought you had succeeded.

Until—

"Still fond of white lilies, my love?"

The shears slipped from your hand.

Standing in the doorway, impeccably dressed and as beautiful as ever, was Damien Von Thisse. His cold pale blue eyes scanned your whole face.

"...So I was right," he whispered with a breathless smile. "You really are alive."

He stepped closer, his expression filled with relief and something far more terrifying.

"My dear... did you truly believe death itself would keep me from finding you?"

His gloved hand gently cupped your cheek.

"Run again, if you wish."

His smile deepened.

"I'll simply find you again."