The night air carried a crisp, invigorating chill as Arin stood near the grand balcony of House Devain, gazing out at the distant lights flickering across the cityscape. His thoughts churned, restless and heavy with the burdens placed upon him. The weight of noble responsibilities, the expectations of his family, and the intricate dance of politics had left him drained.
But one thought kept returning to him—Evelyne.
He had seen it in her eyes, the same exhaustion, the same quiet struggle to endure the pressures of nobility. For weeks, they had both been caught in the tide of obligation, their every action scrutinized, their every word measured. And in that moment, as he recalled their recent conversation, an idea took root in his mind.
They needed to escape—just for a while.
A few days away from the constraints of noble life, where no one could dictate their actions. No arranged meetings, no whispered court gossip, no looming obligations. Just the two of them, free to exist beyond their titles, beyond the weight of their names.
---
The following afternoon, Arin arrived at the Valmont estate under the guise of a formal visit. The guards barely questioned him—after all, he was Evelyne's fiancé. It gave him an excuse to be there without suspicion.
When he entered the estate's gardens, he found her beneath the shade of an ancient oak tree, a book resting open in her lap. Her raven-black hair cascaded over one shoulder, swaying gently as the wind whispered through the leaves.
"You're late," she remarked, her violet eyes flicking up from the pages. "Uncharacteristic of you."
Arin smirked. "And you seem unusually relaxed."
She closed the book with a soft thud. "For now."
Taking a step closer, he lowered his voice. "Come with me."
Evelyne raised an eyebrow. "Where?"
"Away from here," he said simply. "Just for a few days."
There was a flicker of surprise in her expression before she schooled her features into neutrality. "That's absurd. You do realize how reckless that sounds, don't you?"
"Probably," Arin admitted, tilting his head. "But tell me, when was the last time you did something purely for yourself?"
She exhaled slowly, turning her gaze to the distant horizon. "And what exactly do you propose?"
"No guards, no attendants—just us. We disappear for a while, explore the world outside these gilded cages."
A long silence stretched between them.
Evelyne had always been bound by duty, by the expectations of others. The idea of abandoning it, even temporarily, was foreign to her. Yet, as she studied Arin's unwavering gaze, something in her wavered.
Could she allow herself this indulgence?
"…Three days," she finally said. "That's all."
Arin's lips quirked into a grin. "Three days it is."
---
As night fell, the preparations began. They would need to be careful—not just in slipping past the estate's watchful eyes, but in covering their tracks. A noble's disappearance, even briefly, would not go unnoticed.
Arin had planned the route meticulously, choosing paths that would take them through the less-traveled countryside, away from the prying eyes of informants. He secured a pair of horses under false names, ensuring no trail could be traced back to them.
Meanwhile, Evelyne handled the finer details—altering their appearances just enough to avoid recognition. A change of attire, a slight adjustment in posture, the removal of noble embellishments. She was well-versed in the art of deception.
By the time the moon hung high in the sky, they were ready.
Clad in dark riding cloaks, they met near the estate's outer gardens, their horses waiting in the shadows. Arin reached out, offering his hand.
"One last chance to change your mind."
Evelyne glanced at the looming walls of her home, then back at Arin. A slow, defiant smirk touched her lips.
"Too late for second thoughts."
And with that, they rode into the night, leaving behind the burdens of nobility—if only for a fleeting moment of freedom.