Meanwhile, inside the hushed main chamber, Clyde lingered by the bedside, his large hands moving with almost painful care as he drew the blanket up to cover the two small bodies curled together. Their steady breathing filled the silence, soft and innocent, as though the world outside did not exist.
He bent low, pressing a long, unhurried kiss to each of their heads—an unspoken vow that clung to his lips.
I will return.
Yet the faint light catching in his weary blue eyes betrayed him, shadowed with a sorrow that whispered of a different truth.
At last, he tore himself away. His steps carried him to the grand balcony where the night air bit against his skin.
He closed the chamber door behind him, sealing the moment away, before turning to the two shadows who straightened from their bows.
Maximilian stepped forward without a word. With practiced reverence, he draped Clyde in dark battle gear and fastened the heavy fur cloak across his shoulders.
