The night had settled over the castle like a velvet cloak, the air thick with a stillness that carried both peace and tension.
"Aragon," Leanna called, her tone hesitant yet laced with a concern that could not be masked.
He didn't respond immediately. His back remained turned, his head slightly bowed as if he were lost in thought. But his body tensed at the sound of her voice.
After a moment, he turned slowly to face her, his sharp features softening under the ethereal glow of the moon. There was something in his eyes—something dark, something longing, but also something restrained. The intensity that had always burnt within him was still there, but it was now tempered with weariness.
