The moon bathed the mansion in silver light, casting soft shadows on the marble tiles of the balcony. Sofia stood motionless, her arms resting on the stone railing, her eyes fixed on the glowing orb above. The night air whispered through her dark curls as her thoughts wandered to one thing—escape.
She couldn't forget her conversation with Meren. The image of the loyal maid warning her about the dangers beyond these walls echoed in her mind. Yet, she felt no fear—only longing.
She whispered to herself, "If I stay here… I'll never be free."
Her heart beat faster with the thought. She turned away from the balcony, crossed her room in silence, and pulled out a leather satchel. Quietly, she filled it with a few dresses, a warm shawl, and a pouch of coins she had secretly saved for years. The room felt colder now, as though the walls knew she was planning to leave them.
The hour was close to midnight when she slipped out of her room. She crept down the grand staircase, shoes in hand, careful to avoid the creaky floorboards. Candles flickered dimly in their sconces as she passed the long corridor toward the servant's wing.
She reached the kitchen and peeked into the scullery. There, Meren was finishing up the last of the dishes, her sleeves rolled to her elbows, eyes tired.
"Meren," Sofia whispered urgently.
Meren turned in surprise, wiping her hands on her apron. "My Lady? What are you doing here?"
"I need you to help me leave," Sofia said without hesitation. "Take me to the village you once mentioned."
Meren's face paled. "No… no, Sofia. It's too dangerous. Your father—"
"I don't care!" Sofia cut her off. "I can't marry that prince. I can't live in this golden prison anymore. I want to see the world with my own eyes."
Meren shook her head. "If we get caught, it won't just be you who pays the price. He'll punish everyone involved."
"I'll take the blame for everything. I promise you. But please, help me."
The silence between them stretched, heavy and full of risk. Finally, Meren sighed, her shoulders slumping.
"My uncle still has his old cart. He delivers hay to the village market at dawn. If we're careful, we can leave at two."
"Thank you," Sofia whispered, hugging her. "I owe you my life."
---
At exactly two in the morning, Sofia stood at the servant's entrance wrapped in a heavy cloak, her satchel slung across her shoulder. Meren emerged from the shadows and led her down a hidden path toward the garden wall.
A small, creaking cart waited beyond the bushes, drawn by a tired old horse. At the reins sat a grizzled man with a pipe between his teeth—Meren's uncle.
"This is madness," he muttered. "Do you know who her father is? Do you want us all dead?"
"She has no one else to turn to," Meren said quietly.
The man shook his head but helped Sofia climb into the cart, where bundles of hay provided cover. Meren climbed in beside her, and soon they were rolling through the darkness, away from the mansion that had been Sofia's prison for eighteen years.
Hidden under the hay, Sofia looked up at the stars through tiny gaps in the wood. Her heart beat not with fear, but exhilaration. For once, she was choosing her own path.
---
Morning came like a slap to the mansion.
The servants were panicking. One of them knocked frantically on Duchess Alina's door.
"My Lady—your daughter is gone!"
"What do you mean gone?!" the duchess screamed, storming out of her room. She turned to see the head maid standing pale and speechless.
"Her bed was empty. Some of her clothes are missing too."
Duchess Alina flew into a rage. "You fools! You were supposed to watch her!"
Without a moment to spare, she burst into the duke's study, where Duke Leonzor was sipping his morning tea.
"She's gone!" Alina cried. "Sofia ran away last night!"
The duke stood, slamming his teacup on the desk. "Call the guards. Find her. Bring her back immediately."
---
Meanwhile, the cart carrying Sofia and Meren had arrived at a village nestled in the hills. Smoke curled from chimneys, and the scent of bread and morning dew filled the air.
"Sofia," Meren whispered. "We're here."
Sofia sat up, brushing hay from her hair. Her eyes widened at the sight of the colorful stalls, children playing in the street, and villagers chatting over steaming cups of tea.
"I've never seen anything like this," she whispered. "It's… real."
They walked into a small wooden tavern, where the innkeeper—a kind old woman—served them mushroom porridge and hot honeyed milk.
Sofia took a spoonful and nearly cried. "It's warm… and full of flavor. Nothing in the mansion ever tasted like this."
Meren smiled. "This is freedom, Sofia."
But it didn't last.
Suddenly, the tavern door burst open. A village boy ran in, breathless.
"Guards! From the mansion—they're searching house by house!"
Sofia froze. "No… already?"
Meren grabbed her hand. "We have to go. Now."
They slipped out the back, but it was too late.
Meren's uncle had already been captured. The guards surrounded them in the alley.
"By order of Duke Leonzor, return Lady Sofia to the mansion," one guard announced.
"No!" Meren cried. "Leave my uncle alone. This was my doing!"
Sofia stepped forward. "Don't hurt them! I'll go with you. Just… please, let them go."
Her father's voice cut through the air like a whip.
"Sofia."
She turned to see him, his face dark with rage. "You disgrace our name. Come here."
"Please, don't hurt them," Sofia begged. "I'll return with you. Just let them go."
Duke Leonzor grabbed her by the arm, gripping her so tightly she winced. "You've shamed this family."
He dragged her to the luxurious carriage waiting at the end of the street. Behind her, she heard Meren screaming as her uncle was beaten. Sofia turned back, tears blurring her vision.
"I'm sorry!" she shouted. "This was all my fault!"
But her voice was lost in the chaos.
---
Back at the mansion, Sofia's room was no longer her sanctuary.
The windows were sealed shut. Heavy bars had been installed across the balcony. Guards now stood outside her door at all hours.
She sat on the edge of her bed, her eyes hollow, her hands trembling.
The door opened with a loud click. Her father entered, his face like stone.
"You will stay here until you accept your marriage. If you attempt to flee again, the punishment will be doubled—not just for you, but for anyone who helps you."
Sofia said nothing.
He slammed the door and locked it.
Only then did she allow herself to break.
She fell to her knees, sobbing into her hands, every breath a knife of guilt. Meren and her uncle had suffered because of her. And now, she was right back where she started—only worse.
"I only wanted… to be free."