That night, the world felt hushed. The ruins of the battlefield lay in silence, the only sound being the whisper of the wind and the distant crackle of dying flames.
Under the pale glow of the moon, Igaris and Lilya sat side by side on a hill overlooking the village. The starlight shimmered on her golden eyes, still red from tears, yet calmer than before.
After a long silence, she spoke, her voice barely louder than a breath.
"Who are you really, Igaris?"
His eyes lingered on the moon, deep and distant, as if searching for an answer in the heavens themselves. At last, he sighed, the weight of centuries pressing into the sound.
"I am… your worthless husband who failed to protect you in my previous life."
Her head jerked toward him, her cheeks blooming red. "H-Husband?"
The word lingered in the air, delicate and impossible. Lilya's heart pounded like a drum, her fingers curling into her dress.
