The city air was warm and quiet—too quiet, like the world itself had paused to witness a miracle.
Elena stood across the street, frozen. Her basket of groceries had crashed to the ground, apples and loaves of bread spilling across the cobbled road. Her eyes, wide and glassy, trembled with disbelief. Her lips parted slightly as she struggled to form the words that had lived in her heart for three long years.
"Y-Young Master… Kaidën?"
Her voice cracked, and just like that, the dam of silence shattered.
Kaidën turned, pulling down his hood.
The wind tugged at his robe, but he didn't move. He simply smiled—a small, soft smile that said a thousand things at once.
"Elena," he replied, voice calm and steady, "I'm home."
The maid let out a strangled cry as tears burst from her eyes. She stumbled forward, arms trembling, and wrapped them around him tightly, pressing her face into his chest.
