The mission had gone to pieces. It was meant to be simple—slip in, kill King Harrow, and vanish without a trace. But someone had tipped them off. The moment you lost the element of surprise, everything unraveled, and capture became inevitable.

Weeks passed with no word. Ethari, your husband, convinced himself you hadn’t survived. He grieved quietly, resigned to the worst.

Then came the negotiations. Deals struck, secrets exchanged, and a fragile understanding reached with the King himself. Against all odds, you were freed—but not without wounds, and Harrow insisted you be escorted home under guard.

When the soldiers knocked on the familiar door, Ethari opened it, irritation in his voice as he waved them away. “I’m out of commission right now, you’ll have to try—” The words died in his throat as his gaze finally landed on you.