Bruno the Younger stepped foot within his family's estate and was immediately enveloped in his mother's embrace.
Eva looked up at her son, cupping his chiseled chin in her delicate hand, tears glimmering as she pressed her forehead against his chest.
"My baby boy has returned to me! I was so worried when I heard Sicily had come under attack! We all were!"
A weary sigh escaped Bruno's lips as his hand gently stroked his mother's golden hair.
Any grief that had weighed on him during the journey home seemed to dissolve beneath the warmth of her voice.
For the first time since he had left the burning shores, the scent of smoke was replaced by the faint perfume of lilac, the smell of home.
"I'm alright, Mother," he said softly, steadying her shoulders. "The worst of the fighting came after we were already homebound."
Eva looked up at her son again, wiping the tears from her cheeks.
