Page 106 of His Stolen Bride

Sofia doesn’t dodge. “Yeah. We’re safe.”

Oisin’s eyes narrow. “Promise?”

Sofia holds up her hand like she’s swearing in court. “Promise.”

He studies her for a second like he’s deciding whether she’s serious enough, then nods.

Mikhail’s mother touches Oisin’s shoulder once, lightly. “Go wash your hands,” she says. “Then breakfast.”

Oisin looks at me like he’s refusing.

I smooth his hair. “Go. I’ll be right here.”

He hesitates.

“Two minutes,” Sofia says. “I’ll race you to the sink.”

Oisin’s eyes light up. “You can’t beat me.”

Sofia grins. “Watch me.”

They leave in a blur of feet and whispered arguing.

The room settles.

Mikhail’s mother stands still for a moment, watching me like she’s taking inventory.

“You did what you had to,” she says.

I swallow another mouthful of broth. “He’s dead.”

“Yes.”

No celebration. No relief in her voice. Just fact.

I look down at my hands. They’re steadier now. “I said I’m staying,” I whisper, more to myself than her.

“I heard,” she replies.

I glance up. “Did you?”

Her eyes don’t soften, but something in them shifts anyway. Approval, maybe, or understanding. “You can stay and still leave,” she says. “Staying isn’t chains if you chose it.”

I stare at her.

She’s not saying it like a comfort line. She’s saying it like a rule she learned the hard way. My throat burns again. “I don’t want to run anymore.”

“Good,” she says. “Running teaches men you can be chased.”

A beat of silence.

Then she adds, “He’ll come up when you ask.”

I set the bowl down carefully. “I don’t know how to ask him for anything. Not without it feeling like a bargain.”

Mikhail’s mother looks almost amused. “Then don’t bargain.”

“How?”