Several servants standing at a distance exchanged glances, yet not one dared step forward. The air in the sitting room grew stifling, as if it too were holding its breath.
Bianca clenched her fists against the floor. Her crying subsided, replaced by sothing far more dangerous resolve. She lifted her face, her eyes red, but her gaze steady as it t her father’s.
"I’m not going ho," she said slowly. Then, with a stronger voice "Period."
The single word fell heavily.
Count Austin straightened. His jaw tightened, the veins in his neck standing out. He looked at Bianca as though she were a stranger no longer a child he could fully control.
"You forget who you are," he said coldly. "You are the daughter of a count. Your life is not your own."
Bianca gave a small smile a fragile one, almost mocking.
"That’s exactly what you’ve never understood," she replied. "I’m a human being before I’m anyone’s daughter."
Silence descended again, sharper this ti. More dangerous.
Behind one of the pillars, Valerie stood still, watching from a distance. Her face was blank, her eyes tired. She did not step forward. She did not interfere. For once, she let Bianca stand on her own choice whether it was courage, panic, or a ga she did not yet fully understand.
And Count Austin...
for the first ti in his life, he realized sothing that made his chest feel tight. Threats alone were no longer enough to make his daughter obey.
Count Austin drew a deep breath, his chest rising and falling sharply, as if restraining a fury long tempered by pride and a lifeti of command.
"I will say this once more," he said, his voice low yet trembling with anger. "Bianca, co ho with ."
Bianca stood frozen. Her face was pale, her eyes wet, but there was no pleading left in them. What remained was reckless courage the kind born when soone has reached their limit.
"You have no right to my life," she said. Each word ca slowly, clearly, like a blade deliberately aid. "Not now. Not ever."
For a mont, the sitting room fell silent.
Then—
"Damn it!" Count Austin barked.
The word cracked through the air like a whip.
He spun sharply, his voice rising without the slightest hesitation.
"Guards! Drag her ho."
The order left no room for negotiation.
Several ard n stepped forward at once. Their movents were heavy, practiced, expressionless. Bianca stumbled back a step on instinct, her breathing turning ragged.
"Wait—!" she cried in panic. "Father, don’t—!"
Rough hands seized her arm. Bianca scread, thrashing with all her strength, her nails clawing uselessly at a guard’s sleeve.
"Let go!" she shrieked hysterically. "Let go—!"
The sound echoed, piercing the ears of the servants frozen in the corners of the room. Not one of them moved. Not one dared.
Bianca continued to struggle as she was dragged backward, her heels scraping against the marble floor. Her breath ca in gasps, her sobs breaking free without restraint.
But the resistance did not last long.
One guard yanked both her arms behind her back, binding them roughly. Bianca scread louder a cry that was abruptly cut off when another hand clamped over her mouth.
"Mmm—!"
The sound dissolved into a strangled sob, her eyes wide with terror. Tears stread down her face, unstoppable. Her body went rigid, forced into motion, powerless now.
Count Austin stood where he was, watching the scene with a cold expression. There was no hesitation in his eyes. No remorse. To him, this was not cruelty it was order.
"Take her," he said curtly.
The guards dragged Bianca toward the door. Her dress was rumpled, her hair disheveled, her eyes wild as they searched for sothing or soone.
At a distance, half-hidden by the shadow of a pillar, Valerie stood frozen.
Her heart pounded. Her hands clenched without her realizing it. A powerful urge surged through her to step forward, to shout, to stop it all. But her legs felt heavy not with fear, but with a bitter clarity.
This is no longer my ground.
Bianca’s gaze found hers for a fleeting instant. It carried a terrible mixture panic, anger, and sothing that looked like a demand... or perhaps an accusation.
Then the great doors closed.
Footsteps faded. The muffled crying disappeared.
The sitting room fell silent again too silent.
Valerie let out a long breath, her chest tight. For the first ti in a long while, she understood one thing with painful clarity:
Helping soone out of a cage does not always an they will truly fly free. Sotis... the cage is simply passed into different hands.
Valerie stood rigid before the tall window. The sheer curtains swayed gently in the afternoon breeze, but the sight beyond made her chest feel heavier still. Count Austin’s carriage was already disappearing, its shadow shrinking along the stone road, carrying Bianca away leaving behind the echo of screams that still rang in her head.
Demian stood beside her. He, too, stared out, his jaw set hard.
"Don’t you need to help her?" he asked at last, his voice low, almost restrained.
Valerie did not answer right away. Her gaze remained fixed ahead, her eyes hollow, as if she were trying to swallow sothing bitter.
"If I help her," she said finally, quiet but firm, "Father will never let go of ."
Demian turned to her, frowning. "You have ," he said without hesitation. "Why are you still afraid of your father?"
The question hung in the air.
Valerie finally looked at him. Her gaze rested on Demian’s face the face of a man accustod to protecting with strength, with na, with power. For a mont, she almost believed him.
Almost.
But she chose silence.
Because in her heart, there was another truth she could not speak. Because I will leave.
And when that day cos, you will not be beside , Demian.
She had known it for a long ti. Every promise of protection Demian offered was bound to one thing: himself his position, his bond, all of it fragile under choices that were never truly resolved.
Valerie turned back to the window. Bianca’s face flashed through her mind fear, anger, and misplaced hope. Her heart ached, but she swallowed the guilt deep down.
If Bianca leaves with the Count, she thought, I can be free.
Free from Father. Free from demands. And one day free even from Demian.
She let Bianca be taken away not because she did not care, but because for the first ti, she chose herself without compromise.
Demian stepped closer. "Valerie," he said more gently, as if trying to grasp sothing slipping away from him. "As long as I’m here, you don’t need to be afraid of anything."
Valerie gave a small smile barely there, worn with exhaustion. "You’re too certain," she replied at last. "And I’m too tired to hope."
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