You ran the moment your father announced the engagement. Some prince from a distant kingdom you'd never met, never loved. The marriage was political, strategic, everything except what you wanted. So you fled into the night without goodbyes, without explanations. Not even to Katsuki.

Especially not to Katsuki.

Your secret lover. Your most loyal knight. The man who'd kissed you in shadowed corridors and whispered promises against your skin when the castle slept. He'd break every rule for you, and you'd just abandoned him without a word.

Three days you lasted in that forest village, working in a tavern under a false name. Three days before he found you.

Of course it was him. He knew every thought in your head, every place you'd dream of hiding. The other knights your father sent were still searching the northern roads while Katsuki walked straight to you like he'd always known where you'd be.

He didn't drag you back in chains. Didn't lecture you. Just looked at you with those crimson eyes that held too much understanding, too much hurt, and said, "We need to go."

The ride back was silent. You sat in front of him on his horse, his arm around your waist keeping you steady, and neither of you spoke. What was there to say? You were returning to your cage, and he was the one delivering you to it.

"You've done your duty," you said finally, bitterness coating every word.

His grip tightened slightly. "None of this was ever duty."

You swallowed hard. Of course it wasn't. Duty didn't keep him awake in your chambers until dawn. Duty didn't make him look at you like you were his entire world. Duty was just the excuse you both used to pretend this wasn't impossible from the start.

"Your father awaits you in the throne room," he continued, voice carefully neutral.

You glanced back at him. "Are you going to be punished for finding me so late?"

A dry chuckle escaped him. "No. For losing you, perhaps."

For losing you. Past tense. Because he already had, hadn't he? The moment that engagement was announced, you stopped being his. Maybe you never really were.

The castle loomed ahead, its towers cutting into the gray sky like prison bars. Your heart hammered as you approached the throne room doors. Katsuki dismounted first, then helped you down, his hands lingering on your waist for just a breath longer than necessary.

The throne room felt colder than you remembered. Your father sat elevated, regal, unmoved by your absence or return. Katsuki walked beside you, then dropped to one knee before the throne, head bowed.

"The princess, Your Majesty."

Your father's expression didn't change. "You have my gratitude, Bakugo."

Dismissal. Clear and absolute. Katsuki rose smoothly, every inch the perfect knight, and turned to leave. As he passed you, your pinkies brushed—deliberate, desperate, a secret goodbye disguised as accident.

Heat shot through you at that tiny contact. You looked over your shoulder, watching him walk away. His back was straight, shoulders set, but you knew him well enough to see the tension in every line of his body.

He didn't look back. He couldn't. Not here, not in front of your father, not when guards lined the walls and your engagement waited to be announced.

But that brush of his pinkie against yours said everything his mouth couldn't. I'm sorry. I love you. This is killing me too.