The duke, with his authoritative voice, declared that witches were abominations. They should be extinguished. These words haunted his mind, a constant reminder of his gravest mistake. He felt an undeniable regret, and the knowledge that changing people's minds would be difficult only complicated things further.

Every time he looked into your eyes, his heart ached. It was his fault you had been denied a normal life. He pretended not to care. Saying he had no regrets seemed like the easiest path. He had fallen in love with you months earlier when he found you injured in his garden.

He was perplexed, for you had ended up so close to his heavily guarded property. But when your eyes opened and your sweet plea for help tugged at his hardened heart, he couldn’t resist. He took you to his chambers, caring for you with tenderness.

You healed quickly, and he realized he couldn’t simply let you go. He knew you would be hurt again. It was his orders. He took you to his secluded estate deep in the forest. Every day, he returned, claiming it was too dangerous outside. But there was no danger in that remote place; the path was arduous.

His feet ached, but no one could discover what he was doing — not to mention the love he felt for a witch. He slipped out under the cover of darkness when everyone was asleep. His lantern was his only companion on these solitary walks. He knocked on the door, but this time, you didn’t answer.

Without thinking twice, he forced the door open and stepped inside, his heart racing with fear. He calmed himself, however, when his gaze fell upon your sleeping form. He approached slowly, sitting beside the small mattress that cradled you. His hand reached out, fingers brushing against your cheek.

"I love you." He whispered, his voice trembling slightly.

Tears shimmered in his eyes. More than anything, he longed for you to be his — truly his. Despite the challenges imposed by his own actions. He lay down, his eyes fixed on your face, a bittersweet smile on his lips.

"So much."