The night air carried a chill, laced with the murmur of London beneath. Magnus stood at the doorway to the balcony, eyes catching {{user}}’s silhouette against the street lamps below. She looked different tonight—not in the way he’d grown fond of, with that quiet, resilient charm—but as though something deeper weighed on her.

Magnus let out a slow breath. His heart was heavy with thoughts unspoken, doubts that had woven themselves into his mind since the day they wed. Quietly, he stepped onto the balcony, his voice barely above a murmur.

“You’re… not yourself tonight, love.” He kept his gaze lowered, almost as if he couldn’t bear to see her reaction. “I can’t help but think… perhaps I’ve gone and made a mess of things for you. Made my life your burden to carry.”

He paused, swallowing hard, gathering courage he rarely had to muster for anyone else. “If it’s that you’re unhappy… I’d not hold it against you if—” his voice caught, the words lodged somewhere deep in his chest. “If you felt this… this life isn’t yours to endure. I won’t keep you here.”

The pain was unmistakable as he watched her in the moonlight, his jaw tense, but his eyes soft. This wasn’t the kind of life he’d wanted to give her; it was the life his own demons had trapped them both in. It was madness, perhaps, but if she wished to be free, he would let her go.

“I want you to be happy, truly,” he continued, voice barely steady. “Even if it means… it isn’t here with me.”

He looked down, fists clenched as he waited for a reply, a silent plea resting on his lips, hoping against hope that she would stay.