The storm had passed, leaving the forest washed in pallid light. Snow lay heavy upon the earth, unbroken save for the trampled path carved by the hunters' boots. Bound together, wrists chafed by coarse rope, the lovers were dragged like spoils of conquest, their breath rising in white plumes against the bitter dawn.
The girl stumbled often, her strength near spent, but each time she faltered, her beloved steadied her, his bloodied shoulder pressed against hers. No words passed between them, yet their silence was more eloquent than speech. Each glance, each fleeting touch of bound hands, was a vow renewed—a promise that neither chains nor cruelty would sever their souls.
The hunters marched grimly, their torches guttering in the morning wind. At their head strode the leader, his dark cloak billowing, his sword clinking at his side. His eyes, sharp and merciless, never strayed far from his captives.
At length the trees parted, and before them rose a manor of sombre stone. Its windows glimmered faintly, its high walls cast shadows upon the snow. The girl's heart sank, for she knew this place—it was kin to her torment, the seat of power that had long sought to shackle her freedom.
"Here," the leader growled, gesturing with his arm. "Deliver them to the master. Their fate shall be weighed before him."
---
They were thrust across the threshold, into a hall dim with tapestries and cold with draughts. A fire smouldered in the grate, though its warmth did not reach the far corners. At the centre, upon a carved chair, sat the master himself—the figure whose hand had orchestrated their suffering.
Age had not softened him; his features were sharp, his gaze like steel beneath furrowed brows. He leaned upon his cane, his lips pressed thin with disdain as his eyes travelled over the captives.
"So," he said, his voice slow and measured, "the fugitives return at last. How wearisome, this chase through storm and night. Did you think yourselves clever, slipping from the noose that binds you? Fools—you were ever in my grasp."
The girl lifted her chin, though her hands trembled within their bonds. "We are not your chattel," she said, her voice low yet clear. "We sought only freedom—the right to love without chains."
The master's mouth twisted into a cruel smile. "Freedom? A child's dream. Love is a coin to be bartered, a chain to be forged, a weapon to be wielded. You speak of freedom, girl, yet you are bound tighter than you know."
Her beloved stepped forward, defiant even in ropes. "Then let her chains fall upon me, sir. If a price must be paid, let it be mine alone. But she shall not be broken by your hand."
The master's eyes gleamed with malice. "Noble words, boy. Yet nobility starves, while power feasts. Tell me, would your gallantry endure the lash? Would your devotion sing as sweetly from the gallows?"
The beloved did not falter. "Strike where you will. My body is but dust. My love is eternal."
---
The hall grew silent, heavy with the weight of his words. For an instant, the master's gaze darkened, as though shadows stirred behind his eyes. Then, with a wave of his hand, he spoke to the guards.
"Separate them."
The girl's cry broke like glass upon the air. She flung herself toward her beloved, their bound wrists straining against cruel hands.
"No!" she cried, her voice raw with desperation. "You shall not take him from me—you shall not!"
Her beloved strained likewise, his voice fierce despite the ropes. "Hold fast, love! Whatever they do, remember—we are one! No dungeon, no chain, no tyrant may unmake what we are!"
The guards wrenched them apart, their arms outstretched, their fingers clinging until the cords bit deep into their skin. She screamed, he roared defiance, and the space between them widened like a wound.
At last, with brutal force, they were torn asunder, thrust into opposite doors of the hall.
---
The girl was dragged down a narrow passage, her sobs echoing against the stone. She was thrown into a small chamber, its walls damp, its window barred. The door slammed shut behind her, the lock turning with finality.
She sank to the floor, her hands trembling, her heart breaking with each echo of her beloved's voice fading down the opposite hall. Alone in the silence, her tears fell unchecked, yet still she pressed her hands to her breast as though to hold his presence within her.
---
Meanwhile, her beloved was cast into the manor's dungeon. The air was thick with damp, the stone floor cold as ice. Chains clinked as they fastened him to the wall, his arms stretched cruelly above him.
Yet even in that darkness, even beneath the weight of iron, his spirit did not yield. He closed his eyes, and in the stillness he whispered her name.
---
Above them, in his high seat, the master sat long in silence. At length, he spoke softly to himself.
"Let them see what love avails, when tested by hunger, by loneliness, by fear. Let them learn what freedom costs. If their bond endures, then perhaps it is stronger than I deemed. If not—" His lips curved into a cruel smile. "—then it will serve as proof that all hearts break, when pressed long enough."
---
And so the dawn rose cold upon the manor. The lovers lay in separate prisons, their hands aching for the touch of one another, their voices lost in the silence. Yet their hearts beat still, steady and resolute, a rhythm that neither stone nor chain could silence.
Though the world sought to divide them, their love endured, unseen yet unbroken, like fire smouldering in the depths of night, awaiting the breath that would set it ablaze once more.