Day by day, Nox now ate all his meals alone. He no longer saw either Torven or Velkan, and the only person he encountered was a petite, elderly maid who brought him to his room not only meals, but also books.
All books she brought were about the art of painting, filled with instructions: how to hold a brush, which canvas is best to use, how to protect artwork from moisture. Nox read about still life composition and how to best position an easel outdoors when painting landscapes.
'What nonsense,' he thought. 'It would be better to read something on sword techniques or at least hand-to-hand combat. Why would they give me those books? Do I look like someone interested in art? Or perhaps they just don't want me to get stronger...'
He shut the book quickly and reached for the next one. He skimmed through several volumes, but something caught his eye as he picked up the last. A tiny corner of paper peeked out from between the pages. Nox tugged on it and found a small note folded in half. He opened it, and his eyebrows rose. The note read:
"I'm sorry.
Velkan."
Nox wasn't even sure if the note was meant for him, or perhaps for the elderly woman who brought him food. Still, somewhere deep down, reading it brought him a faint sense of warmth. He placed the note back where he had found it, just in case it was intended for someone else, and set the book aside.
It was clear that Velkan had been removed from his duties. Nox had neither seen nor heard him for days.
Nox looked towards the table in his room. The day before, he had noticed a slightly protruding nail at its leg. He hoped he could slowly pry it loose and use it later—perhaps as a tool to unlock a door, or even for self-defense. Half a day passed that way. When he looked out the window, he saw that it was getting dark.
It was time for dinner. Nox sighed, pulled on his gloves, and waited patiently. The elderly maid brought him the dinner and he ate his meal in silence and solitude
Dinner tasted better than usual that evening. The food seemed richer, more plentiful, with more vegetables. He ate slowly, savoring every bite. He left only a few broccoli florets - he didn't like them. Gently, he wiped his mouth with a napkin and placed it on the right side of his plate. For a moment, he waited for someone to maybe come and see him in his room, but no one came. It was very quiet.
Suddenly, the front doors burst open. Nox held his breath, expecting Torven to storm in.
Instead, a trembling large figure appeared - Velkan.
"Come quickly," he said. "Torven won't be back for a while. Run. I'll hold him off."
It was the first time the broad-shouldered warrior had ever spoken directly to him, and now his voice was urgent, almost... protective?
Nox didn't ask questions. He didn't have time. But a flicker of understanding—or maybe just desperate hope—told him that Velkan was trying to make amends for the way he'd treated him before.
He jumped to his feet and ran. With all his strength. First out of the house, then toward the stables. Though still weakened, he felt a bit stronger, and thought that if his time was running out, he would rather spend it as a free man.
Only one thought ran through his mind: 'Faster, faster.' He tried to spur himself on. Finally, he reached the stables. For a long moment, he wrestled with the doors.
They were locked.
The hope of escaping the estate felt more distant than ever.
Nox stood in front of the locked stable doors breathing heavily. He pressed his forehead against the cold wood, closing his eyes for a moment.
He knew time was slipping away, and that any delay could cost him his only chance.
Finally, with a heavy heart, Nox took a step back. He looked once more toward the stable.
He then turned away and disappeared into the night, leaving Gerhart behind.