For the next week, the man never showed up in her room again.
Only Martha was allowed to come and go to take care of her needs.
Eiravyne knew she was getting better, her strength slowly returning, but she also knew she had to figure out a way to escape.
Each day, Eiravyne observed Martha closely, searching for any clues that might help her understand her captor's routines and the layout of the place she was being held in.
Martha was kind in her own reserved way, tending to Eiravyne's injuries and bringing her food, but she never offered any information about the man or the place they were in.
"Martha," Eiravyne said one morning, her voice steady as she sat up in bed, "do you know why I'm here?"
Martha avoided her gaze, busying herself with changing the sheets. "It's not my place to say," she replied softly.
"But you know, don't you?" Eiravyne pressed, desperation creeping into her voice. "You know what he wants with me."
Martha sighed, pausing in her task. "It's best not to ask too many questions, miss. Just focus on getting better."
Eiravyne bit her lip, frustration bubbling inside her.
She needed more than that. She needed answers. But she couldn't risk alienating Martha, her only point of contact with the outside world.
Days turned into nights, and Eiravyne's anxiety grew.
She had to escape, but how? The windows were too high, the door always locked. She felt trapped, like a caged bird.
One evening, after two weeks of observation, Eiravyne noticed something crucial: Martha always left the room but then returned shortly to lock the door.
Her heart skipped a beat. This was it. Her chance.
"Martha, wait," she called out, her mind racing. She needed a plan.
Martha turned, her eyes weary. "Yes, miss?"
Eiravyne forced a smile. "Thank you for taking care of me. You've been very kind."
Martha's expression softened slightly. "Just doing my job, miss."
As Martha turned to leave, Eiravyne's eyes gleamed with determination. She knew tonight was the night she had to run away.
She understood that she had to be careful and patient.
Any rash actions could lead to her getting caught. She needed to find the perfect moment to strike.
Over the following days, Eiravyne noted when Martha seemed most distracted, such as when she was carrying in the heavy food trays.
Eiravyne planned meticulously, rehearsing the steps in her mind over and over.
That night, as Martha struggled with the heavy tray, Eiravyne seized the moment.
Eiravyne waited, holding her breath, until Martha left the room without realizing what had happened, leaving the door slightly ajar.
Eiravyne's heart raced as she took a cautious step toward the door.
Peeking through the gap, she saw the hallway outside, dimly lit and seemingly empty. This was her chance.
She had to act quickly and quietly, every second counting in her desperate bid for freedom.
She knew she had to move quickly and quietly to avoid detection.
With a deep breath, she pushed the door open just enough to slip through and stepped into the hallway.
The cool air of the corridor sent a shiver down her spine, but she steeled herself, determined to find a way out.
She moved swiftly and silently, her footsteps barely making a sound on the cold stone floor.
Her senses were on high alert, every creak and distant noise making her jump. She needed to stay focused.
The mansion was a labyrinth of dark, twisting corridors and shadowy corners.
As she rounded a corner, she heard voices approaching.
Panicking, she ducked into a nearby alcove, pressing herself against the wall and holding her breath.
Two guards walked past, their conversation muffled and uninterested.
Once they were out of sight, Eiravyne continued, her heart pounding in her chest.
She reached a window and cautiously peered through the glass.
Her heart sank as she saw waves crashing against the mansion's walls, just like the view she saw from her room's window.
The landscape was desolate with no sign of escape in any direction.
Eiravyne pulled back from the window, feeling a surge of desperation.
She had hoped for a more promising view, perhaps a glimpse of the ground or a path leading away from this place.
Instead, the relentless sea seemed to mock her, a reminder of how isolated she truly was.
She opened the window and wanted to have a full view, hoping for some inspiration for her escape.
As she leaned out, a chilling voice from behind her cut through the night.
"You want to jump? I could help you with that," the voice said, unmistakably filled with malice.
Eiravyne's blood ran cold. She turned slowly, her eyes wide with fear, and saw the figure of the man who had imprisoned her standing in the hallway.
He stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with a predatory intensity. "Did you really think you could escape?" he taunted, a cruel smile playing on his lips.
Eiravyne's mind raced, trying to think of a way out.
The open window behind her offered a dangerous escape.
She backed away from the window, her heart pounding in her chest.
"S-stay away from me," she said, her voice trembling but defiant.
He chuckled darkly, taking another step closer. "Oh, but where's the fun in that?" he replied, his tone mocking. "You see, Eiravyne, you are mine, and there's no escaping that."
Desperation surged within her. She had to do something, anything, to get away from him.
With a sudden burst of courage, she grabbed the nearest object—a heavy candlestick—and brandished it like a weapon.
"Don't come any closer," she warned, her grip tightening on the candlestick.
He paused, his eyes narrowing. "And what do you plan to do with that?" he asked, his voice dripping with disdain. "Hurt me? Kill me?"
Eiravyne didn't respond. She knew she couldn't overpower him, but she was willing to fight with everything she had.
She glanced back at the open window, then at him, her mind calculating the risks.
He noticed her hesitation and smiled wickedly.
"Go ahead, jump. But remember, the sea is unforgiving, and so am I."
With a sudden movement, he lunged at her. Eiravyne swung the candlestick, catching him off guard and hitting his arm.
He stumbled back, giving her the moment she needed.
Without thinking, she turned and climbed through the window, her heart pounding as she felt the cold night air against her skin.
She knew it was a dangerous drop, but it was her only chance.
As she balanced on the ledge, the man's voice echoed behind her. "And …suicidal "