The Duke turned, leading us through the winding stone corridor, his steps deliberate, echoing against the smooth floor. Alice trailed beside me, quiet, though her presence alone felt like a weight at my side—a steady one, grounding me.
"I'll be honest," I said, voice low enough for only her to hear. "I thought he was going to keep me locked up for another week."
"He would have," she replied. "But someone kept bringing him reports. Of your attitude, your patience, and the fact that you didn't once complain."
"Because there was nothing to complain about," I muttered. "I had three square meals and no Hans."
She gave me a side glance. "You say that, but you'd lose your mind in another week."
"…Maybe."
I turned my head back toward the front and narrowed my eyes at the Duke.
Something didn't sit right.
Getting me out of the cell? Sure. That much I expected, especially after everything that happened.
But a reward? That was a different story altogether.
