The courtyard was veiled in morning mist.
It clung to the stone like breath on glass — soft, pale, and fleeting. The air smelled faintly of rain and iron, of farewells dressed in silence.
Zelene stood near the steps of the manor, her cloak drawn tight, her hair catching what little light the early sun allowed.
Behind her, two figures prepared the carriage — Ray, ever watchful even in stillness, and Finn, yawning into the fog as he loaded supplies with exaggerated care.
The horses shifted restlessly. Leather creaked. The sound of departure hung thick in the air.
And there, at the edge of it all, Kael stood.
No guards surrounded him. No servants lingered.
Only him — the Duke of Dravenhart, stripped of title and ceremony, just a man standing in the doorway as the woman he could not keep prepared to leave.
Zelene turned at last. Their eyes met — not with surprise, nor hesitation, but something quieter. Acceptance. Regret.
The kind of look shared by two souls who understood that timing was the cruellest enemy of all.
"I've had the carriage prepared," Kael said, his voice measured, but low. "Supplies for a fortnight. Darius made certain of it."
She nodded. "You've done more than I deserve."
"You deserve peace," he replied simply. "Even if I cannot give it to you."
The wind stirred between them — a small, wistful thing that carried the scent of rain and farewell.
When she stepped closer, Kael did something he had never done. He reached for her — hesitated — then drew her into his arms.
It startled her. For a heartbeat, Zelene froze, her breath caught between disbelief and the fragile ache of memory. His embrace was steady, warm despite the cold, the kind of warmth she had long stopped allowing herself to remember.
Her voice trembled when she finally spoke. "Kael…"
He did not answer. His hand only lingered a moment longer at her back before he let her go, the absence of his touch colder than the wind itself.
Then his gaze turned to Ray, who stood near the carriage, stiff-backed and unyielding as ever.
"Sir Ray," Kael said, the tone in his voice suddenly heavier — the weight of command returning. "You will protect her. No matter what stands in your way."
Ray bowed his head slightly. "You have my word, my lord."
Kael's eyes softened, though his jaw remained set. "See that I never have cause to regret trusting you."
Then, back to Zelene — softer, almost unbearably so:
"Wait for me," he said, each word deliberate, like a promise carved from stone. "Whatever lies ahead, I will find a way to aid you. To finish what we could not finish before."
Her lips parted, as though she meant to argue — to tell him not to make vows he might never keep — but the words refused to come.
Instead, she only nodded. Once.
And in that single nod was everything she could not bring herself to say.
Kael stepped back as the carriage door closed, his figure blurring behind the mist and the slow rise of dust as the horses began to move.
He did not wave.
He only watched.
Watched as the wheels turned.
Watched as her silhouette faded between the trees.
Watched until there was nothing left but the echo of what might have been.
---
Inside the carriage, silence filled the space.
Finn shifted uncomfortably, glancing between Zelene and Ray — the former looking out the window, the latter sitting too straight, his face unreadable.
After several long minutes, Finn finally cleared his throat.
"Well," he muttered, attempting levity but failing miserably. "That was not what I expected the Duke of Varest to be like."
Ray said nothing.
Finn leaned back, arms crossed. "Tell me something, Zelene. What is your relationship with that man?"
She didn't look at him. Her gaze stayed fixed on the window, where the castle walls disappeared into fog.
When she finally answered, her voice was quiet — not sharp, not defensive, but distant.
"He was… someone I once trusted," she said. "Someone I thought I had lost."
Finn arched a brow. "You thought?"
Her lips curved, but it wasn't a smile. "I think part of me still hasn't decided whether finding him again was a blessing… or a reminder."
Finn blinked, unsure whether to ask more. He didn't.
But in the hollow quiet that followed, something shifted in his understanding.
For the first time, he realized that whatever thread bound Zelene and Kael, it was not the simple, gentle thing he'd once imagined existed between her and Ray.
No — this was older, heavier.
Something carved out of time and ruin.
And though the road stretched endlessly before them, Finn couldn't shake the thought that the story between those two wasn't over — merely paused.
Outside, the morning sun finally broke through the clouds, scattering the mist into gold.
And though Zelene didn't see it, Kael stood still on the castle's high wall, watching that same light — the one that carried her away from him.