The days felt longer now. Every morning started the same way, breakfast with Lucian where he reminded me of the rules in that cold, clipped voice, then long hours of silence while he worked and I tried to fill the empty spaces in this huge house. I read in the library, walked in the garden when the weather allowed, and tried not to think too much about how trapped I felt.
Today was no different. Lunch was served in the smaller dining room. Lucian sat at the head of the table, scrolling through his phone between bites. I pushed my salad around the plate, the tension from the last few days still sitting heavy in my chest.
“You’ve been quiet,” he said suddenly, not looking up.
I blinked. He rarely started conversations. “I’m just… adjusting.”
He set his phone down and fixed those eyes on
