"Why do you apologize?... You didn’t do anything wrong by moving on," Zayden said, his voice gentle but steady. "Life moves forward, Ren. No one survives alone."

The omega let out a quiet, humourless laugh and shook his head.

"I wouldn’t have apologized so much if it were as simple as that."

The General’s brows drew together, confusion threading into concern.

"Then... why?" he asked, because no answer came to him—not one that fit.

"Your friends..." Ren began, and Zayden immediately tensed. His hand slipped from Ren’s grasp as his chest tightened.

Don’t tell me he’s going to use that against me...

His jaw clenched, worry digging into him like teeth.

"No. Actually," Ren corrected quickly, shaking his head as he abandoned the example he had been about to give.

"Let’s say there is someone you love deeply. Someone who means everything to you. And I don’t mean in a simple way—I mean literally your world. Without them, you are... nothing."

His tongue felt heavy with the bitterness of his own words, the kind that left a sour taste of grief.

"Alright..." Zayden murmured.

He tried to imagine it, and at this point in his life, the only person he could compare it to was Ren himself. But he knew—he felt—that whatever Ren described was far deeper than his own understanding.

"So, this person dies in front of you," Ren continued, voice barely above the sound of the chilling breeze.

"You have the power to save them, but you don’t. Because helping them would mean risking your life and they tell you to live. To keep the promises you both made—and survive. Even though you couldn’t fulfill what you dreamed of together."

Zayden had been staring at the snow while Ren spoke, but when he finally looked up, his breath stopped in his chest.

Tears were slipping down Ren’s cheeks like melting ice—quiet, unstoppable.

Oh, Lord...

He wasn’t speaking in theory.

He was mourning.

He was speaking of the man buried beneath the cold, hard earth.

Without a word, Zayden stepped closer and pulled Ren into a tight embrace.

No questions asked.

No explanation given.

Ren’s arms lifted slowly before wrapping tightly around him in return. He didn’t care if his tears soaked through the General’s jacket. If they reached his skin, even better—at least then Zayden would know how real this pain was.

They stayed like that for a long moment—silent, still, breathing in the cold air and each other’s presence.

No time was marked, yet somehow, both released at the same moment, as though their hearts agreed without words.

The walk back toward the mansion was long... and quiet.

Snow crunched beneath their boots, wind brushed against their coats—but none of the two men spoke.

For Ren, the silence felt heavy. Not uncomfortable with Zayden, but with himself.

He hated showing weakness. Hated more how easily Zayden saw him break. Hated that recently, he had shown more of his fragile self than he ever intended.

Too much.

He thought, fingers tightening around his gloves in his jacket’s pockets.

I have let him see far too much.

Yet Zayden walked beside him, patiently, not rushing nor asking, as if weakness didn’t matter at all. As if he was willing to accept all of Ren’s flaws.

***

As soon as Enzo and Eiran entered the mansion, the servants removed Eiran’s jacket and muffler. His gloves remained stuffed inside the pockets—he’d been too lazy to put them on for such a short walk only to take them off again moments later.

Some of the servants stepped forward to assist Enzo. A few recognized him, but most did not—he hadn’t visited in a long time, and the staff in Zayden’s mansion changed frequently.

Hannah, who had been eagerly awaiting their return, looked left, right, and even behind the group. When she didn’t spot Zayden or Ren, her shoulders sank in disappointment. She still bowed politely before speaking.

"Young Master, where is the Lord and R— I mean, your papa?"

"I don’t know," Eiran replied with a casual shrug.

He placed one foot on the first stair, but Hannah’s next question halted him mid-step.

"Did you come alone?"

Eiran paused. He frowned—just slightly—almost irritated by the sudden interrogation, though he kept a polite smile on his face.

"Of course not. They went to the forest."

He inhaled sharply as if the conversation itself was tiring him.

"Now, may I go?"

His tone sharpened, no longer patient.

Hannah blinked, startled by the shift in temperament, then nodded quickly.

It was clear her questions were beginning to bother him.

Without wasting another second, Eiran dashed upstairs.

He ran down the hallway, completely unfazed by the startled expressions of the servants who had been cleaning tirelessly for two days straight. Ever since the news of their Lord’s return, rest had become a luxury none of them could afford.

After all, Zayden liked his mansion spotless—unlike his own room, which he oddly never seemed to care much about.

Once he stood before his room, Eiran swung the door open.

Silence greeted him.

The room was impeccably clean, lit by chandeliers hanging overhead despite the bright daylight outside.

Eiran walked deeper inside, heading straight to the windows. He pushed one open, and a sharp gust of wind struck his face. His breath hitched—almost stolen by the cold—but after a moment, he exhaled and a small, relieved smile formed on his lips.

"You can come out," he whispered, letting out a soft sigh.

He hadn’t been caught.

A flicker of golden light shimmered in the air. Then, from the glow, appeared a small black dragon.

Eiran found this small creature while he was in the capital. It had been hidden inside one of the toys Enzo bought him.

At first, he didn’t know what it was—until it hatched, revealing its true dragon form. It could talk, but it couldn’t take human shape.

Unlike the dragon, Eiran had been born human, though he had absorbed dragon powers—at least, that’s what he had read in a book. It wasn’t impossible for a human to possess a dragon’s abilities.

He wondered if he could ever take a full dragon form himself. The thought was both thrilling and terrifying.

"Let me come inside," the dragon said, snapping Eiran out of his thoughts.

Eiran frowned, cheeks puffing up.

"How rude! I’m letting you stay in my room. I don’t share it with anyone else but Papa and Dad."

The dragon shook his head, unfazed by the boy’s grumbling. He had grown used to it by now.

***

By the time they reached the mansion gates, the sky had dimmed into a soft bluish-grey. Snowflakes drifted lazily, melting the instant they touched their skin.

Enzo was the first to notice their return—relief flickered through his expression, though worry lingered beneath it.

Servants hurried forward to help Zayden remove his dark long coat, beige muffler, and black gloves.

Ren, however, slipped out of his own garments slowly, silently—by himself.

Zayden watched but didn’t intervene, staying close, only a few steps away.

The entrance hall was warm, a sharp contrast to the winter beyond. Golden lamps glowed softly, and the familiar scent of burning wood drifted from the hearth.

Yet something in the air felt off—quieter, emptier, as if the house had forgotten how occupied it used to be before they left.

Ren’s eyes swept the space before he turned to one of the servants.

"Where is Eiran?"

His tone was calm, but firm.

The servant blinked, taken aback by the way Ren addressed the young master. She hesitated, fingers tightening in her uniform.

"In his room," she replied carefully.

Ren tilted his head, frowning slightly.

"Alright... but it’s lunchtime. Why didn’t anyone call him down?"

The servant’s lips pressed together before she answered.

"Young Master Eiran said he doesn’t want to see anyone."

She swallowed. "He refused lunch. And said he would not open his door."

Ren froze.

He doesn’t want to see anyone.

Was he upset? Did something happen on the way back from the capital?

Ren couldn’t tell—yet something inside him twisted sharply.

Zayden stepped closer, voice low, steady.

"Do you want to go to him?"

Because if Ren said yes, the General was already prepared to follow.

Ren didn’t answer right away. His gaze fixed on the staircase—toward the closed room, toward the son who shut the world out.

Then, barely audible—

"Yes."

He climbed the first step.

Zayden followed immediately.

Ren paused, turning to him with faint confusion.

"You’re coming too?"

"Of course," Zayden replied as if it was obvious. "He’s my son as well. If he’s not eating, we should find out why. It could be concerning."

Ren almost laughed. Children threw tantrums when they didn’t get what they wanted—he had read that. But what could Eiran possibly be denied in this mansion? He lacked nothing.

Zayden glanced toward Enzo lingering in the hallway.

"Enzo. Jeanne will guide you to the guest room. You may have lunch—if we take long." 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

Enzo nodded, the servants bowed, and the two men continued up the stairs.