As the days passed, Clara found herself growing more conflicted. Benjamin's presence was unsettling, yet there was an odd comfort in the way he treated her—like she was something fragile, something he didn't quite understand. For someone who ruled with fear and violence, he had an unexpected gentleness when it came to her.
But then, the unthinkable happened.
One evening, Benjamin came to her with a look of anger etched into his features. "I know you're lying to me, Clara," he said, his voice dark with accusation.
Clara's stomach dropped. "What? What did I lie about?"
"You know something about my enemy. You've been hiding it from me," he continued, his eyes burning with suspicion.
"I swear, I don't know anything!" she protested, her voice trembling.
But it was too late. The trust that had been slowly built between them shattered. Benjamin turned away, his face hardened once again.
"You've failed me, Clara," he said coldly. "I'll deal with this. Don't make me regret keeping you here."
Clara stood frozen, a mix of confusion and hurt flooding her chest. How could he think she was lying to him? She had been nothing but honest with him.