Honestly, Isolde felt more comfortable living in what Severin called his home than she ever did at Velvet Cage.
The bed here was softer, and no torture tools were hanging on the walls of her room—no whips, no table that dragged her back to the hellish memories of Velvet Cage.
Shooting and combat training took place behind the house, where the breeze could touch her skin, unlike Velvet Cage, where she felt trapped in a windowless, grim underground space.
At night, the area behind Severin's house was still unsettling. The forest beyond was shrouded in darkness, far beyond the reach of the house's lights. Isolde had once considered that forest as a possible escape route.
She often found herself glancing in that direction during shooting practice—when Severin wasn't around, when his men got distracted talking, or when one of them went to the bathroom, leaving her alone with just one guard.
