Time passed strangely on the estate. Like soft clay shaped by everyone but the one living inside it. Days stretched long; the light was warm, the shadows cool, and Andromeda’s new routines began to form—slowly, hesitantly. Her life still unfolded within the walls of one room—her movements freer now, but still not free.
Three days had passed since Lucian had left. He hadn’t said where. Just that it was “business,” and that he’d be back soon. His eyes hadn’t betrayed more, but his words carried something she was slowly learning to read: He would come back.
The first night alone had been hard. Andromeda tossed and turned in bed. The soft pillows, the scented sheets, the low music in the background—none of it helped. Comfort was there, but something was missing. Not safety. Not even a specif
