Dilhan's footsteps echoed softly in the dim servant quarters as he approached Anna's modest room.
Through the cracked door, he could see her kneeling beside a small wooden chest, hastily stuffing her belongings into a tattered bag. Her movements were hurried, yet shaky, and Dilhan could tell she was barely holding herself together.
Her usually composed face was marred by tear-streaks, and she sniffled softly, trying to keep herself quiet. But as she tied up her bag and stood, wiping her eyes with her sleeve, she froze.
The sound of the door shutting firmly behind her made her whirl around in shock. Standing there, calm yet unrelenting, was none other than Dilhan.
"Y-Young Master?!" Anna stammered, her voice cracking. She quickly wiped at her tears, trying to compose herself. "You shouldn't be here. These are the servant quarters! If someone sees you—"
