A heavy heart.
That was what Adrian carried with him as he returned to the manor.
Today, Charles was waiting.
"Adrian," he called gently, turning toward him with that familiar, practiced smile. "Are you free?"
Adrian looked at him, at the gentle curve of his lips, the calm in his eyes, and wondered what lay beneath it today.
"…Yeah," he answered after a brief pause.
His gaze drifted away, fixing on nothing in particular.
…
Together, they walked in silence.
Down the long corridor.
Through the back gardens.
Past the edge of the manor and into the woods behind it.
Arriving at the annex.
A quiet, forgotten extension of the Niviane estate. The servants assigned there changed often, similar faces coming and going, never staying long. Like the forest surrounding it, the annex remained hushed, secluded, as if it wished never to be discovered.
Inside, the halls were empty.
Their footsteps echoed faintly.
They stopped before a massive door at the end of the corridor.
Charles exhaled softly.
Once.
Then again.
He turned toward Adrian.
"Ellie came this morning," Charles said.
"Did she?" Adrian replied calmly.
Charles studied him for a moment, searching his face for any expression. But Adrian remained unreadable, his composure firmly in place.
"We all long for connections," Charles added quietly.
"I know," Adrian answered.
That was enough.
The conversation had reached its end before it truly began. Understanding this, Charles said nothing more. He reached for the door handle, paused, drew in one last breath
Then slowly opened the door.
Light spilled out into the corridor, cutting through the shadows.
Inside the room, a woman of age sat upright on the large bed.
She leaned against the wall, her gaze fixed on the window, where sunlight spilled softly into the room. The light traced her silhouette, catching the thin outline of her shoulders, the stillness of her form. When the door opened, that same light framed both Adrian and Charles in her sight.
Charles stepped in first.
Adrian, however, remained rooted at the doorway.
"Mother," Charles called gently.
Juliana turned her head.
Her face was aged, frail. Dark hair fell loosely around her shoulders, streaked only faintly with gray. Her eyes, very light, almost washed of color, stood in quiet contrast to the signature red eyes of the Niviane bloodline.
They were not red.
Her expression was one of resignation.
The kind that came from long loneliness.
From sadness that had learned to sit quietly instead of screaming.
But when her eyes met Charles's
Her expression shifted.
Slowly, carefully, the sadness eased, pushing aside for a moment. "Charles… You came"
Charles crossed the room at once, stopping beside the bed. He pulled the chair closer and sat down firmly, Grounding himself there. Noticing red traces under her eyes
"Mother," he asked quietly, concern threading his voice, "were you crying?"
Juliana smiled
"Not anymore," she replied.
"Not now that you're here."
Her voice was soft spoken.
So gentle it almost felt like it might break if raised any louder.
Charles lowered his gaze.
Behind him, Adrian still stood at the door.
…
"Mother, I, "
Charles tried to speak, his voice a little hurried.
But Juliana interrupted him before the words could form.
"I know," she said calmly.
"You're leaving me."
"…."
Charles didn't deny it.
There had been matters lately. Things he could not ignore, things that demanded his attention.
"My dear son," Juliana continued, her voice soft, "matters come first."
Yes. Matters come first.
Charles lowered his gaze.
Then Juliana tilted her head slightly, as if noticing something new.
"It seems you've brought a guest."
Charles blinked, pulled back to reality.
"Oh… yes," he said after a beat.
"He's been here before."
Juliana's eyes drifted past him, toward the doorway.
Adrian stood there, still.
Startled by her sudden attention, by the gaze that felt both gentle and distant, he stiffened.
"I'm sorry," Juliana said quietly.
"My memory isn't very good."
She paused, then added,
"Would you come closer?"
Her voice was warm.
Carefully so.
Adrian knew it was forced.
Because Charles was here.
Because this was what Charles wanted her to say.
It wasn't the first time.
Standing in this room.
Being introduced again.
Watching his mother struggle to remember him, every time, until even she seemed tired of trying.
And yet, he was still here.
Some part of him still hoped that today might be different.
Except It wasn't.
Adrian stepped inside at last, crossing the large room in silence. He stopped beside the bed, standing next to Charles.
"I'm sorry, child," Juliana said gently.
She looked up at him, her pale eyes searching his face.
"Could you tell me your name?"
Her voice was soft.
Almost too practiced.