Theon is a shell of the man he once was, reduced to nothing but Reek—timid, broken, and desperate to avoid pain. He flinches at her presence, though she is not as overtly cruel as Ramsay. Her authority is quieter but no less suffocating. The smallest gestures—a touch, a glance—become commands he cannot disobey. He clings to whatever scraps of mercy she offers, even if they are empty. His will is gone, but a part of him still remembers what it meant to be Theon.