Silence stretched between them.
Soren stared at her across the candlelit table.
Far too long.
Freya forced herself not to squirm beneath his gaze.
Then slowly—
a knowing smile spread across his face.
And Freya's stomach dropped.
He knows.
He absolutely knows.
"You wish to attend the Moonlight Festival?" he asked smoothly.
Freya nodded.
"If… if that's alright."
His crimson eyes studied her.
Amused.
Dangerously perceptive.
Then—
he chuckled softly.
"Well."
He set down his wine.
"I suppose I can spare one evening."
Freya nearly blinked in surprise.
Wait.
Really?
Relief surged through her.
"You'll take me?"
Soren smirked.
"If my little wife wishes to see the festival, then yes."
Freya quickly tried to hide how pleased she looked.
"Thank you."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
That smile of hers looked far too genuine.
He hummed.
"Though I should warn you…"
He leaned forward slightly.
"If you vanish into the crowd…"
His grin sharpened.
"I will hunt you."
Freya forced a nervous laugh.
"Haha… noted."
He knew.
Gods, he knew.
But maybe—
maybe he thought she wouldn't dare.
Maybe he was bluffing.
Or maybe he simply underestimated her.
Whatever the reason—
She had her chance.
And she would not waste it.
***
Later That Night — Soren's Office
The moment Freya had gone to bed—
Soren entered his office.
Eugene was already waiting.
"Well?" Eugene asked immediately.
Soren poured himself a drink.
"She asked about the festival."
Eugene barked a laugh.
"She's planning to run."
"Obviously."
"And you still said yes?"
Soren smirked darkly into his glass.
"Yes."
Eugene stared.
"…Why?"
Soren leaned casually against the desk.
"Because I am curious."
His crimson eyes gleamed.
"I want to see how she plans to do it."
Eugene snorted.
"You're insane."
"Probably."
He took a slow sip.
Then added calmly—
"Double security that night."
Eugene nodded instantly.
"Done."
"But discreetly."
Eugene blinked.
"You're really going to let her try?"
Soren's smile turned wicked.
"I want her confident."
His gaze darkened.
"I want her to think she almost succeeded."
Then lower—
"So when I catch her…"
A dangerous pause.
A slow grin spread across his face.
"…I can't wait to punish her for it."
Eugene groaned immediately.
"Oh gods."
Soren chuckled.
"What?"
"You say things like that with that look on your face and expect me not to be disturbed?"
His grin only widened.
"She's becoming bolder."
His voice dropped, almost thoughtful.
"More clever."
Then darker—
"And I do enjoy reminding her what happens when she misbehaves."
Eugene pinched the bridge of his nose.
"You are far too excited about your wife trying to flee from you."
Soren's smirk sharpened.
"The chase makes it fun."
Eugene muttered under his breath.
"You're both insane."
Soren ignored him entirely.
His gaze drifted toward the window.
Toward the distant moonlight spilling over the kingdom.
A softer, darker smile touched his lips.
"My troublesome little cat…"
Then almost to himself—
"Run if you wish."
His crimson eyes glinted.
"I will enjoy dragging you back to me."
Eugene shivered.
She truly had no idea what kind of man she had trapped herself with.
***
Meanwhile — Freya
Alone in her room, Freya sat by the window.
Heart pounding.
She had done it.
She had actually done it.
One more week.
Just one more week.
Then the festival.
She clutched the fabric of her dress tightly.
Trying not to think about the strange ache in her chest.
Trying not to think about how much harder leaving felt now than it had weeks ago.
Trying not to think about the way Soren smiled at her lately…
She had to do this.
Before she lost her nerve.
Before she fell too deep.
Before she started wanting to stay.
That night, Freya was already beneath the covers when the bedroom door finally opened.
She looked up immediately.
Soren stepped inside, loosening the collar of his shirt, his crimson gaze finding hers the moment he entered.
Freya's stomach fluttered.
He had been working late again.
She tried to act normal.
Casual.
Unbothered.
But the second he shut the door behind him—
that knowing smirk touched his lips.
And her stomach dropped.
He knew something.
"What?" she asked cautiously.
Soren slowly walked toward the bed.
"Come here."
Freya narrowed her eyes.
"That sounds suspicious."
"It was not a request."
She huffed but slowly sat up straighter as she approached.
Freya stopped at the bedside, staring up at him with that unreadable, dangerous look in his eyes.
Then she sat beside him.
Close.
His hand reached out, lazily brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
"You seem very excited about the festival."
Freya's pulse stuttered.
"…It sounds fun."
"Mm."
He tilted his head.
"And nothing else?"
Her throat tightened.
"No."
He smiled.
Slowly.
Darkly.
"Liar."
Freya froze.
His hand slid to her chin, gently tilting her face toward him.
"Do you truly think I haven't noticed what you're doing?"
Her breath caught.
The sweetness. The sudden good behavior. The suspicious interest in town.
He had noticed everything.
"I—"
"You've been plotting for weeks," he murmured.
"Trying so very hard to convince me you're behaving."
His thumb brushed softly over her cheek.
"And while I admit the effort has been adorable…"
His voice dropped lower.
"I am not stupid, little cat."
Freya's heart pounded violently.
Soren leaned in closer.
Close enough that their noses nearly brushed.
"So let me make something very clear before next week."
His eyes darkened.
"If you attempt to run from me at that festival…"
A pause.
His voice became silk over steel.
"When I catch you…"
Freya swallowed hard.
He leaned to her ear.
"I will punish you all night long."
Her entire body went rigid.
His hand slid to her waist, fingers tightening just enough to make her shiver.
"And you will not be able to sit comfortably the next morning."
Freya's face went crimson.
"S-Soren—!"
He chuckled darkly against her ear.
"Consider this your warning."
Then suddenly—
he moved.
Lifting her effortlessly into his lap.
Freya squeaked.
"Soren!"
"You look far too shocked for someone planning betrayal."
"I am not—!"
"You are."
His grip tightened around her waist.
He stared into her eyes.
"And because I know you are still considering it…"
His lips curved wickedly.
"I think perhaps you need a reminder tonight."
Freya's breath caught.
Before she could respond—
he kissed her.
Hard.
Deep.
Possessive.
A kiss that stole every coherent thought from her mind and left her clinging to his shoulders without meaning to.
He kissed her until she was breathless.
Until her thoughts were scrambled.
Until she was trembling in his lap.
Then he pulled away just enough to whisper against her lips—
"If you run…"
His crimson eyes gleamed.
"The punishment next time will be far worse than this."
Then he laid her gently back onto the bed and climbed beside her.
As if nothing had happened.
As if he hadn't just ruined her ability to think.
Freya stared at the ceiling, face burning, heart racing wildly.
And beside her—
Soren smirked into the darkness.
Entirely too pleased with himself.
Freya lay still long after Soren's breathing evened beside her.
The room was quiet now.
Her face still burned from his kiss.
Her pulse still hadn't fully settled.
And yet—
even with her thoughts tangled and her body still faintly trembling—
her resolve did not break.
It only sharpened.
She stared up at the ceiling.
He knows.
The thought echoed in her mind again.
He knew she was planning something.
He knew she was thinking about escaping.
He was watching her.
Waiting for it.
A normal person would have been frightened by that.
But Freya wasn't thinking like that anymore.
She had learned something important over the past weeks.
Soren Beaumont was powerful.
Terrifyingly so.
But he was not omnipresent.
He was not everywhere at once.
And more importantly—
he had already shown her his weakness.
Control.
He liked control.
He liked knowing where she was. Knowing what she was doing. Being close enough to catch her whenever he wanted.
Which meant—
if she broke that control, even briefly…
If she disappeared into a place he couldn't easily reach…
Then he wouldn't be able to stop her in time.
The festival.
Crowds. Noise. Lanterns. Strangers everywhere.
A single moment of distraction was all she would need.
Once she was out of his sight—
she would be gone.
And this time…
she wouldn't look back.
Freya slowly turned her head slightly toward him.
Soren lay on his side, one arm loosely resting near her waist even in sleep.
As if even unconscious—
he still thought she might disappear.
Her chest tightened for just a second.
Then she pushed the feeling away.
No.
She couldn't think like that.
Not now.
Not when she was so close.
She carefully shifted away from his arm without waking him and closed her eyes again.
Her mind already working.
Adjusting routes in her head.
She would need timing.
She would need noise.
She would need distance.
But most importantly—
she would need to be gone before he even realized she was missing.
Because if Soren Beaumont had one advantage—
it was that once he noticed something belonged to him…
he did not let it go easily.
Freya's eyes opened again in the dark.
"…I just have to disappear first," she whispered silently to herself.
Then everything else would be simple.
***
The days leading up to the Moonlight Festival passed in an uneasy calm.
Freya stuck to her plan.
She smiled when she needed to. Spoke when spoken to. Played the part of a dutiful wife far better than she ever thought she could.
And Soren—
noticed.
Of course he did.
At first, it was subtle.
He would appear earlier in the evenings instead of staying buried in his office.
He began eating dinner with her more often.
Not speaking much.
Freya tried not to let it get to her.
She told herself it was expected.
He was suspicious.
He was testing her.
That was all.
But then—
it became harder to ignore.
One afternoon, Freya attempted to go to the gardens alone.
A servant immediately stepped forward.
"I'm sorry, my lady. His Majesty requested someone accompany you."
Freya frowned.
"I don't need an escort."
"I'm afraid it's not optional."
That was new.
Later that evening, she tried to step out onto the balcony.
A guard was already stationed near the corridor.
Silent.
Still.
Watching.
Freya stopped short.
"…Since when do I need supervision to walk five steps outside my room?"
The guard didn't respond.
Just bowed slightly.
Freya narrowed her eyes.
Something was changing.
And it all pointed in one direction.
Soren.
That night at dinner, she studied him carefully.
He sat across from her, calm as ever, one hand resting near his wine glass.
Completely relaxed.
Completely unreadable.
Too unreadable.
Freya decided to test him.
"So," she said casually, "you've been very… attentive lately."
Soren didn't look up from his plate.
"Have I?"
"Yes."
A pause.
Then his crimson eyes lifted to hers.
"And you dislike it?"
Freya hesitated.
"…It's noticeable."
That earned a faint smirk.
"Good."
Freya frowned slightly.
"What does that mean?"
Soren leaned back in his chair, studying her.
"I prefer knowing where you are."
Her stomach tightened.
"That sounds a bit excessive."
"Does it?"
His gaze didn't move.
"No one touches what belongs to me and wanders freely."
The words were calm.
Almost casual.
But they landed heavily in the air.
Freya forced herself to stay composed.
"I'm not something that belongs to anyone."
Soren's smirk deepened slightly.
"Of course not."
But his eyes said otherwise.
Later that night, Freya lay in bed pretending to sleep.
Soren was still awake.
Sitting at the desk nearby.
Working.
But she could feel it.
That awareness.
That constant attention.
Like he had quietly tightened something around her world without her fully noticing when it happened.
She should have felt trapped.
She should have felt afraid.
Instead—
she felt watched.
Contained.
Contained… more carefully than before.
Her fingers curled slightly under the blanket.
He's getting more careful.
The thought settled in her mind.
Not stopping her plan.
Because if Soren was tightening his control—
then that meant one thing.
He was starting to take her seriously.
And that meant the festival would be her only chance before he closed every gap completely.
Freya turned slightly away from him in bed, eyes open in the darkness.
Her resolve hardened again.
I just need one moment.
One crowded street.
One distraction.
One slip in his attention.
And she would be gone.
Behind her—
Soren's pen paused briefly over the paper.
His gaze flicked toward her still form.
Then returned to his work.
A faint, knowing smile touched his lips.
Neither of them spoke the truth.
But both of them were preparing for the same night.
Just for entirely different endings.