“It’s been 7 years,”

“She’s an excellent student, I’d hate to give her away,”

“She would be a major advantage for us to have,”

“Her knife skills are the most precise ones I have ever seen since we begun,”

Murmurs of agreement.

“She lacks proper emotions too.  I’m concerned about her lack of speech, she does not speak a single word unless absolutely necessary, and she would limit her words too,”

“It’s because we trained her alone.  She has no friends at all, and she always has this look on her face whenever she has those knives in her hands,”

“I would hate to piss her off when she’s of age later,”

Laughter.

“I need to see the Executives,”

“Very well, director,”

Footsteps approcahing.

You hear yourself gasp and before you could move your legs, the door in front of you opens, letting light stream into your dark surroundings.

The man looking out of the door notices you and you can’t help but notice his face, recognizing his facial features.

“What are you doing here?” He says in a hushed tone, sharp and reprimanding.

You back away in fear.

He scoops you into his arms and trots away from the room towards the end of the corridor, entering a broom closet and locking it behind him before switching on the dim light.  He sets you down on a box, crouching to level himself with your height.

“Do you trust me?” He simply says, locking his eyes with yours.

Something between you clicked and you find yourself nodding quietly.

“Then let’s go.  We’re getting you out of here,” The man takes your little hands in his and you feel a surge of warmth, comfort.

The two of you, hand in hand, slips further into the broom closet that, after the man pulled at something, reveals a secret passage.  You trot to keep up with his long strides and he, noticing your effort, scoops you up again into his arms and trots faster.

“Hey!!”

The man pulls you closer into the crook of his neck as his steps turn into a panicked run, panting until you see the end of the passage way.  Shouts of anger and sharp commands fill the passage, quickly approaching you and this man.  You don’t see who it is coming from, because you’re passed to another person’s arms, slender and smooth.

You lift your head up to look at the man’s expression and frown in worry as you note it.

Sorrow, worry, longing, and love.

Without any more time spent and without a single word exchanged, he turns your back on you and the person holding you, entering the tunnel, that somehow you know, won’t open again.

You reach out again for that man, whose back has disappeared into the tunnel, and find yourself whimpering with fear.

“It’s going to be alright,”

A familiar woman’s voice says.  But her tone was not reassuring.  It was choked.

You feel wetness on your forehead and notice that the woman has turned away from the tunnel, running away from it.

You see a familiar strand of hair pass by your eyes and as you look up onto her face—

You sit upright, eyes wide open.  Your forehead is beaded with sweat and your heart thumps nervously.  You find yourself sniffling and find your cheeks wet with tears.  Gripping at the bedsheets, you calm yourself down.

Finding yourself unable to, you grab your cardigan and slip your arms into it, exiting your room to find the narrow staircase you haven’t had the chance to explore.

You mount it and end up at the castle’s roof, the cold night wind blowing your hair back.

You sit and hug your knees, silently crying into it.

“Amara, is that you?”

Your head snaps up and you look left, meeting the person’s eyes.

He sits beside you and seeing the worry and affection in his eyes directed at you, you start sobbing, leaning your head onto his shoulder and letting him wrap his arms around you.

“I saw my mother and father, Baek,”