Freya hesitated, her feet frozen as she weighed her options. The stranger's imposing presence was unnerving, but there was a flicker of something—curiosity, fear, or perhaps both—that pushed her to remain where she was. She glanced back at the main house, its comforting outline barely visible through the thick foliage of the garden. Her father’s wrath was never far from her mind, and if he discovered her sneaking away with an unknown man, the consequences would be disastrous.

“What’s stopping me from shouting right now?” Freya demanded, crossing her arms.

The man didn’t flinch. “You won’t shout,” he said simply.

“And why is that?”

“Because you’re too smart to risk...