Elara stood in the corridor longer than necessary.
The door at the end of the hall was open.
Not wide. Not inviting. Just enough to be deliberate.
Cold air threaded through the stone like a whisper. Night smelled different beyond the estate walls—less iron, more earth. Freedom always had a scent.
She stared at it.
They want to see if I'll run, she thought.
Bastards.
Her fingers flexed at her sides. Her heart was steady—too steady for someone about to make a mistake.
Leaving would be easy.
That was the problem.
No guards blocked her path. No alarm sounded. Even the bond lay strangely quiet, coiled but not pulling.
"They think I'm predictable," she muttered. "How adorable."
She took one step forward.
The stone beneath her boot was colder here, closer to the threshold. Another step and Regina would become memory instead of cage.
Her breath caught—not fear. Awareness.
He knows.
Elara exhaled slowly. "Of course you do."
She didn't turn around.
