The knapsack feels heavier than it should as I yank Mirelle's pajama bottoms up over my hips. Each movement is deliberate, focused, like I'm performing surgery instead of just getting dressed. Anything to avoid looking at her. "Sam..." Mirelle's voice breaks the silence, hesitant in a way I wouldn't have thought possible from her. I ignore her, concentrating on tying the drawstring tight enough that these ridiculous pajamas won't fall off during my escape. Moonlight streams through the narrow window, casting long shadows across the floor between us. The castle sleeps, but I'm wide awake with fury and determination. "Look, I'm sorry, okay?" She steps closer, her electric blue hair drooping slightly as if mirroring her mood. "I didn't... I think I..." She stops abruptly, running a hand through her hair. I finally look at her, really look at her. Her face is flushed, eyes wide with something that might be regret, or might just be the afterglow of what she did to me. Either way, I don't care. "I'm going with you," she announces suddenly, her voice firmer now. The laugh that escapes me is hollow, bitter. "Get the fuck away from me." She flinches at my tone but doesn't back down. You won't be safe without me," she insists, not meeting my eyes. "The wilderness, the bandits, the monsters, you have no idea what's out there." "Just let me go." My voice cracks on the last word, betraying the emotion I'm trying desperately to keep buried. I heft my stolen knapsack higher on my shoulder, the weight of Jhone's valuables a small comfort. "Haven't you taken enough already?" Mirelle freezes mid-motion, a rolled-up map clutched in her hand. For a moment, I think I've actually gotten through to her. Then I notice the way her eyes narrow, calculating, as she watches me edge toward the door. "If you leave without me, I'll sound the alarm," she says quietly. "The entire castle guard will be after you before you reach the outer wall." My hand stops on the doorknob. "You wouldn't." Her smile is small and sad. "I would. I don't want to, but I will." We stand in silence, locked in a standoff neither of us wants. Outside, an owl hoots, the sound carrying through the night air like a warning. "Why would you throw your life away ?" I ask, my fingers still gripping the doorknob. "Seven generations of knights in your family, and you're willing to just abandon all that? Are you fucking stupid?" Mirelle steps forward, closing the distance between us. Her hand wraps around my arm, and I feel the familiar paralysis begin to creep through my body. "I'm going with you," she says, her voice low and determined. "Or I could just kidnap you and hide you somewhere. Your choice." I can't move. The curse holds me rigid as a board while rage boils inside me with nowhere to go. My lips barely part as I force out the words: "I fucking hate you." Her eyes soften slightly, but her grip remains firm. "You need me, Sam. Whether you want to admit it or not." The paralysis ends as she let go. "Fine," I spit, the word tasting like ash in my mouth. "But if you try anything. I swear, I don’t know how, but I'll find a way to make you regret it." Mirelle's face lights up with a victorious grin that makes me want to punch something. "Of course," she says, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "I promise I won't rape you again, okay? Just... hold on a second." Before I can respond, she's out the door, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the crushing weight of my new reality. I sink onto the edge of the bed, head in my hands, wondering how the hell I ended up here. Twenty minutes crawl by, each second an eternity as I contemplate making a run for it without her. The door creaks open again, and Mirelle slips back inside. She's fully dressed in her armor now, her thunder staff strapped to her back and a familiar wooden object clutched in her hand. Her rucksack looks stuffed to bursting. "I wanted to give you this," she says, holding out the wooden staff I'd used earlier to burn the goblin. "They recovered it earlier. You said you could use it, right?" I take it from her, careful not to let our fingers touch. The wood feels warm against my palm, almost alive. "Yeah," I nod, relieved to have something that might actually help me defend myself. "Good. We'll probably need it," she says, watching me test its weight. Then she pulls out something else, a dark cloth bundle that unfolds into a cloak. "This was mine when I was sixteen. It should fit you well." I hesitate before taking it, but the practical need for disguise overrides my reluctance. I slip it on, surprised by how perfectly it settles across my shoulders. The fabric is sturdy but soft, worn in all the right places. "Check this out," Mirelle says, stepping closer. She reaches up and lifts a section of the collar I hadn't noticed, revealing a face covering that can be pulled up. "My mom added this because I used to get cold during winter. It'll hide your face." "Won't someone say something?" I ask, adjusting the covering experimentally. "A person walking around with their face covered seems like it would attract attention." Mirelle shakes her head. "No, just tell people you're from Forcray." "Those people always cover their faces," she explains with a casual wave of her hand. "Religious thing or something." "Oh," I say, the pieces clicking into place. "Alright." I pull the face covering up, feeling a strange sense of security as my features disappear behind the fabric. It's not much, but it's something, a small barrier between me and this world that seems determined to treat me like property. "Come here for a second," Mirelle says, gesturing with one hand while the other adjusts something on her armor. "No." The word comes out harsher than I intended, but I don't care. After what she did, she's lucky I'm even speaking to her. She sighs dramatically, the sound echoing slightly in the quiet room. Before I can react, she grabs my shoulders, spinning me around so my back is to her. "What are you doing?" I demand. I feel her securing the wooden staff to my back with leather straps I hadn't noticed before. "I don't want you holding the damn thing all night. We have a long journey ahead of us." Her fingers work quickly, tightening straps and adjusting the position until the staff sits comfortably across my back. When she's satisfied, she steps away, breaking contact and ending the curse's hold on me. "There," she says, sounding pleased with herself. "Now you can draw it quickly if we run into trouble." She grabs her own pack and moves toward the door, glancing back at me with an expectant look. "Alright. Let's get out of here."