The evening arrived quietly.
The sky deepened into warm shades of amber and rose, and the quiet hilltop home was bathed in the soft glow of evening. The distant rumble of wheels against stone broke the calm—the carriage had arrived.
Cassian glanced toward the sound, then back at Sion.
"How unfortunate," he said lightly. "Time moves rather quickly when I'm with you."
Sion stood beside him, as if ready to send him off.
"Does it?" he replied with a faint smile.
Cassian studied him, as if trying to measure whether that smile was genuine or simply well-placed.
Seeing the carriage come to a full stop outside the gate, Cassian sighed. "It seems I have to go."
"Take care, Guild Master," Sion said politely.
Cassian paused mid-step and looked back at him.
"You're supposed to invite me to stay the night, you know," Cassian added, half teasing, half testing.
Sion didn't miss the way his eyes lingered.
"I wouldn't dare," Sion replied calmly.
Cassian clicked his tongue.
"But," Sion continued, just as Cassian began to turn away, "perhaps I can invite you to dinner next time."
It was subtle.
Not a promise.
Not warmth.
But not rejection either.
Cassian just shook his head, but he was smiling.
Before stepping into the carriage, Cassian retrieved a small wrapped box from inside and handed it to Sion.
"For you," he said.
Sion accepted it without hesitation — but his gaze flicked briefly to Cassian's expression.
Bright.
Cheerful.
But expectant.
"I'm afraid I didn't prepare anything in return."
"You showing up to tea every month is already a miracle," Cassian replied lightly.
He stepped into the carriage, then leaned out just enough to add:
"Don't forget. My alternative offer remains available."
Sion met his gaze evenly.
"Good night, Guild Master."
The carriage rolled away.
Sion watched until it disappeared past the trees.
Sion remained standing there until it disappeared beyond the slope of the hill.
Only then did he turn back inside.
—
After an exhausting day, Sion went straight to his room. He washed up quietly, the cool water washing away the scent of soil and faint traces of tea.
When he stepped out, his gaze landed on the small box resting on his table.
Cassian's gift.
He walked toward it.
Touched it lightly.
He wanted to open it.
He was curious—Cassian never gave meaningless things.
But fatigue settled heavily over him.
"Tomorrow," he muttered.
He extinguished the lamp and lay down.
The box remained unopened.
—
Meanwhile, in the capital—
The training grounds echoed with the sharp clang of steel.
Darius moved with precision, sweat clinging to his skin as he parried and struck in steady rhythm. His movements were disciplined and controlled strength, no wasted motion.
A familiar voice called out.
"Darius."
He lowered his sword immediately and bowed.
"Sire."
Alaric approached with his usual composed expression, though there was something lighter in his eyes.
"Care to spar?" Alaric asked.
Darius straightened. "It would be an honor."
Their swords met with sharp, ringing force. Alaric was strategic, deliberate. Darius was steady, defensive but firm. It was not a match of dominance—but understanding.
When they finally paused to rest, both sat along the stone edge of the grounds.
Alaric took a sip of water.
"How is he?" he asked casually.
Darius blinked. "Sire?"
"When you visited him weeks ago."
Ah.
"Sion."
"You never really had the chance to tell me properly," Alaric added.
Darius hesitated. "Didn't the twins tell you?"
Alaric's lips curved faintly. "They did. In great detail."
"They were quite excited."
Darius allowed a small smile.
"But I'm asking about your opinion," Alaric said more quietly.
Darius looked down at his hands.
"It seems… he's doing well," he answered carefully. "He has Eiran."
A pause.
"But?"
Darius exhaled softly.
"He might just be hiding his pain."
Alaric didn't look surprised.
"That sounds like him," he said.
Silence settled briefly between them.
"Since you'll be visiting him again next week ," Alaric added, tone shifting slightly, "you must be quite excited."
Darius stiffened.
A faint flush crept up his ears.
"I—"
Alaric smirked lightly.
"Are the twins coming as well?" Darius asked quickly, attempting composure.
"No."
Darius blinked.
"D-does that mean… I'm going alone this time, Sire?"
He straightened unconsciously.
"Of course," Alaric replied. "You're going to observe him for side effects. It would be unnecessary to involve the twins."
Darius nodded, but the subtle tension in his shoulders did not escape Alaric's notice.
"You don't have to be nervous," Alaric said.
Darius didn't answer.
Alaric leaned back slightly, staring at the fading sky.
"You should seize this chance."
Darius looked at him.
"To win him back."
The words were calm. Direct.
Darius's grip tightened around his towel.
"It won't be easy," Alaric continued. "He's never been easy."
A faint, self-aware smile touched his lips.
"And it was my fault."
Darius immediately shook his head. "Sire, you shouldn't blame yourself."
Alaric glanced at him.
"I personally requested Father to assign you as my knight," he said plainly. "I knew what that meant.I placed myself between you and him."
Darius's expression softened.
"You did me a favor back then," he replied quietly. "I could have refused."
Even with consequences.
"But I chose to accept."
The honesty in his voice carried no resentment.
Only acceptance.
Alaric studied him for a long moment.
"You're too loyal," he said.
Darius gave a faint smile. "I serve where I decide to stand."
But he knows that loyalty towards the crown and love towards someone were not the same thing.
That's why the idea of seeing Sion again alone this time made his chest tighten with excitement,fear, hope, and regret.All tangled up together.