As Juno walked down the street, he was just looking out through his own eyes, a passenger in his own skull.

  His body moved easily, boots striking cobblestones in rhythm. The morning air was cool, and the rising sun warmed the rooftops. To onlookers, he was Sir Jonathan Silver Paw, knight, enjoying a stroll.

  See me. Please. This isn't me, Juno thought, desperate for escape. Someone, anyone, can't you see?

  He passed some of the early morning patrons leaving the inn, a fox merchant adjusting his pack. A rabbit family headed toward the market. One of them, a badger he vaguely recognized, raised a paw in greeting.

  "Morning, Sir Juno! Early start!"

  Help me, Juno's mind cried out. I'm not.

  But his mouth opened on its own.

  "Good morning, Garrick. Business calls."

  His paw raised in a friendly wave, his voice warm and casual. The badger smiled and continued on his way, none the wiser.

  No one turned. No one saw the prisoner trapped behind those amber eyes.

  Outside the gates, Juno approached the carriage station. His paw reached into his coin pouch, the same one Ryan had already drained at the inn, and paid for a seat to Pridehall. Thirty minutes' travel. The gruff ox driver barely glanced at him.

  "Knight business?" the ox grunted.

  "Of a sort," Juno's mouth replied smoothly.

  He climbed into the carriage and settled on the worn bench, arm resting on the window, expression calm.

  Inside, Juno screamed. Trapped and unseen.

  This is worse than being frozen. I’m forced to act, to smile, but I’m breaking.

  Last night, Ryan had loosened the strings. For a while, the magical binding that controlled him eased. Juno could speak, shout, and even vent his anger, though only within limited bounds. The enchantment let his mind surface, allowed him to lash out, but never to resist. But now?

  Now he was a script. A character, reciting lines he hadn't written, moving through blocking he hadn't chosen. His body walked, talked, and acted like him, but it wasn't him.

  All of this is just a performance, my audience, everyone but me.

  The carriage rattled down the road. Wheels crunched over gravel and packed dirt. Farmland gave way to rolling hills. In the distance, the silhouette of Pridehall grew larger on the horizon. The white stone walls gleamed in the morning light, the golden banner of the Lion King fluttering from the highest tower.

  His body didn’t flinch or tense. It sat, relaxed and composed, like a knight returning from patrol.

  Inside, I calculate. There must be a crack.

  The binding wouldn't let him betray Ryan.

  He had tested it already. In the inn, he had tried to whisper a warning to the innkeeper. His voice had refused to form the words. He had tried to write a note while Ryan wasn't looking. His hand wouldn't move.

  Each attempt to reveal the truth was blocked, his body refused to cooperate, as if the thought never existed.

  I'm trapped. Forced to play along, recite lines, follow a false script, with no way out.

  The carriage jolted. His paw adjusted on the window, casual and natural. Outwardly, Juno stayed composed, watching the passing landscape.

  Inside, his thoughts were anything but calm.

  How did you let this happen? Stupid. Stupid.

  The word echoed in his mind as he replayed last night, dissecting every mistake.

  You had him. He was cornered. Exhausted.

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  He remembered the fear in Ryan's eyes in the woods. The human had trembled, clutching a rock as his only weapon. Juno had stood over him, blade drawn, savoring the moment.

  You should’ve finished it. No speeches, just strike. Pride ruined you.

  Instead, he had wanted the human to understand who was killing him. To see the fear. To feel powerful after the embarrassment of losing him in the first place.

  What did pride earn you? A rock to the head. Strings around your soul.

  Level 1. A nobody with mud and a rock. Two years as a knight, trained since boyhood, survived many battles, arrogance brought him down.

  You let him fool you. Next time, don't.

  He remembered the golden threads sinking into his skin. The horror of watching himself stand, obey, twirl like a performer in a traveling show.

  This isn’t mind control. I know who I am, I just can’t act.

  He was awake and helpless.

  Helpless.

  Never again. Remember this powerless agony. Never again, whatever it takes.

  If I’m free, no, when I'm free, I won’t make this mistake again.

  He did not know how the binding could be broken. He did not know if it could be broken. But the thought anchored him.

  The human is clever. I'll give him that. He isn't strong. He isn't trained. But he thinks.

  And one day, he will make a mistake.

  Juno's outward expression remained placid as Pridehall rose larger before them. The massive gates. The guard towers. The training yard where he had honed his craft.

  This is my home, and I’m play-acting. Everything is a lie I can’t expose.

  His paw twitched, a small crack in the performance, before settling again.

  When the human makes a mistake, I will be ready.

  The carriage rolled to a stop at the gates of Pridehall. The massive iron doors stood open, flanked by two guards in polished armor, a bear and a wolf, both of whom Juno had trained with.

  Let them notice. Please, someone, see the truth.

  His body stepped out of the carriage, his movements fluid and confident.

  "Sir Juno!" the bear called out, his voice boisterous and warm. "Back early? I thought you'd be gone at least another day."Juno's mouth curved into a smile. "The matter was resolved more quickly than expected."

  "Good news, then?" the wolf asked, leaning on his spear. You could say that." His voice was steady. "The prisoner won't be troubling anyone again."

  The guards exchanged a nod of approval. The bear clapped a heavy paw on Juno's shoulder as he passed.

  "Well done, Sir Juno. The King will be pleased."

  Pleased. Yes. Pleased that the embarrassment is gone.

  Juno entered the gates, boots striking familiar cobblestones. Servants hurried by, squires trained in the yard. Everything looked unchanged.

  But it wasn't home. Not anymore. His body moved toward the keep. The script ran: report to the King, declare the hero's death, return to duty.y.

  Deep inside, Juno felt the binding tighten, ensuring every word, gesture, and breath followed the lie.

  Another knight approached, Cooper, a Dog-kin with golden fur and the build of a retriever. His friendly face broke into a wide grin as he spotted Juno crossing the courtyard.

  Not Cooper. Not Cooper. He can’t see me like this. Please, not him. Cooper was an old friend; they'd trained, fought, and shared ale. If anyone could notice, it’d be him.m.oper called out, striding over with his usual easy gait.

  See me, Cooper. This isn’t me. Please.

  Cooper wrapped an arm around Juno's shoulders in his usual greeting. His nose twitched.

  "Phew! What's that aroma? You smell like you rolled in a forest."

  Juno's body laughed, the sound natural and warm. His paw smoothed out his coat.

  "Sorry, old friend. Just good seeing you again."

  That isn’t what I want to say. Cooper, look closer, see past the act.

  But his mouth wouldn't form the words. His voice wouldn't betray the script.

  Cooper's expression shifted to curiosity. "So? How was it? The prisoner?"

  Juno's paw rubbed the side of his head, right where the rock had struck him.

  "He managed to land a blow," his mouth said smoothly, the lie smooth as silk. "But I ran him through. He won't be troubling anyone again."

  “No. I'm lying. See it, stop me, STOP ME.”

  But the words died in his throat, strangled by the invisible grip around his will.

  Cooper nodded, satisfied. "Good. King will be relieved. Come on, let's get you some proper food. You look like hell."

  Juno's body fell into step beside his friend, chatting easily about nothing, while inside, he screamed into the void.

  As they walked, Juno tried again.

  Twitch. Just one finger. Something to signal for help.

  He focused all his will on his left hand, trying to move his pinky, just a small spasm, a tremor, anything that might signal help me.

  His finger didn't move. It stayed perfectly relaxed at his side, swaying naturally with his gait.

  “Blink a code. S-O-S. Three short, three long, three short.”

  His eyes blinked normally, rhythmically, as if he'd never tried anything at all.

  Cooper was still going on, his tail wagging slightly as he talked.

  "You really pulled me out of that one," Cooper said, shaking his head. "I don't know what I would've done without you."

  Please see me, Cooper. You know me. You know this is a lie.

  "Did you really think trying to steal honey from wild bees was a good idea?" Juno's mouth said, his tone light and teasing. "I just found the water to hide in until they passed."

  Cooper laughed, the sound rich and genuine. "You made me sit in that creek for two hours! My fur smelled like pond moss for a week!"

  "Worth it, wasn't it? You got your honey."

  "I got stung twelve times!"

  "Then you learned a valuable lesson."Juno felt his body laugh, the familiar rumble in his chest, shoulders shaking. It was his laugh, his mannerisms, his voice.e.

  “But I'm not doing it.”

  He tried to feel his body. Ground himself. He could still feel the ground under his boots, the cool stone of the castle corridor. He could still smell the wood polish on the walls, the faint scent of Cooper's fur. He could still hear his friend's voice, warm and oblivious. When he tried to move, it was like flexing someone else's hand. The connection wasn’t there. The signals wouldn’t travel. I feel everything, but I can’t touch the world.

  Cooper clapped him on the back again.

  "Come on. Let's get you fed. King's probably waiting."

  Don’t. Please don’t take me to the King.

  "Lead the way," Juno's mouth said.

  And his body followed.

  I will find a way to break free, Juno thought, the cold resolve settling into his bones. Or I will break trying.