57

Evening – Crydias Estate, Rooftop Garden

The Crydias estate had once been a half-ruined manor, scarred by neglect and time, a symbol of decay draped in noble history. Now it shimmered beneath the stars like a reborn myth.

New marble shone where cracks had once spread like veins. Glass-paneled corridors reflected the moonlight.

The garden on the rooftop—once wild and overgrown—was tamed and nurtured into tranquil perfection, dotted with flowering moonlilies and small fountains that whispered like distant memories.

Alaric stood there alone, his silhouette framed by the wind.

The night was quiet, save for the low trickle of water and the occasional rustle of garden leaves. The lights of Caerywyn glittered beyond the estate walls, but they felt far away—like another world.

His hands were behind his back, his head tilted toward the horizon.

He did not hear her approach.

But he felt her.

Aurevia.