@alinaeffect: Later that night, the castle was quiet again. Too quiet. Freya moved alone through a servant’s passage, carrying nothing this time—only her thoughts. The torches burned low, casting long shadows along the stone walls. She slowed as she passed a door slightly left open. Lady Ingrid’s chamber. Freya hadn’t meant to stop. But something pulled her. A voice. Low. Urgent. A man. Freya stepped closer, her breath held. Inside, Ingrid stood near the window, her dark silhouette sharp against the pale night beyond. Another figure stood with her—older, cloaked. Her father. “…it should have been finished at sea,” he said quietly. Freya froze. Ingrid’s voice followed, cold and controlled. “It nearly was.” A pause. Then— “He survived. But he remembers nothing.” Freya’s heart began to pound. The man stepped closer to Ingrid. “Then we make sure he never does.” Silence. Heavy. Dangerous. Freya’s hand moved instinctively to her chest. The ring. Inside the room, Ingrid turned slightly, her voice softer now—but far more dangerous. “And the girl?” Freya stopped breathing. The man’s reply was quiet. “Find her.” A long pause. Then Ingrid smiled faintly. “No.” She stepped closer to the firelight, her face finally visible. “I think… I already have.” Freya’s eyes widened. The floor creaked beneath her foot. Inside the room— Silence. Then— Ingrid’s head turned slowly toward the door. #ForbiddenLove #romantasy #fantasyromance #medievaltiktok #slowburn

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