Eilika hurried down the grand staircase, her heart racing as she realized the midday sun was already pouring through the tall windows. She reached the living room, breathless and smoothing her hair, only to find the vast space quiet and empty.

"Your Grace, good afternoon," a servant said, dipping into a low curtsy. "His Grace and the young master are currently in the courtyard. They have been there for some time."

"Oh... Thank you," Eilika replied, a small, relieved smile breaking across her face.

She stepped out onto the stone veranda, the crisp Netham air carrying the sound of Roman’s infectious, high-pitched laughter. She moved quietly toward the edge of the lawn, joining the small circle of attendants and the butler, who were watching the scene.

The sport of the morning was a simple game of catching the ball. Damian, usually the picture of rigid dignity, was moving with a grace. He was intentionally missing the catches, letting the ball slip through his fingers or over-stepping his mark with a mock groan of frustration.

Roman, on the other hand, was darting across the grass with boundless energy. He caught a high toss with a triumphant shout, clutching the ball to his chest as he beamed up at his father.

"I caught it again, Father! Look!"

"Yes, I can see!" Damian said.

Eilika watched from the sidelines, feeling happy for them. From Roman she had only heard how busy the Duke would remain and hardly played with him.

"Mama, you’re awake!" Roman’s eyes lit up the moment he spotted her. He abandoned the leather ball where it fell and sprinted across the grass, throwing himself into her arms. "Good afternoon!" he chirped, his face tilted up toward hers, flushed from the sun.

"Good afternoon, Roman." Eilika immediately sank to her knees, ignoring the grass beneath her skirts. She pulled a silk handkerchief from her sleeve and began gently dabbing the sweat from his brow and cheeks.

"Mama, we didn’t disturb you because Father said you were tired from the journey. Did you have a good sleep?" Roman asked, his wide eyes searching hers for any sign of lingering fatigue.

"Yes, I slept very well, dear," Eilika reassured him with a soft smile. "And what about you? Did you have your breakfast?"

"Yes, Father and I ate earlier," Roman admitted, though a small pout formed on his lips. "Even though I wanted to wait for you, Father said I must be a disciplined boy."

"It’s good that you ate your meals with your father," Eilika praised, glancing up at Damian, who stood a few paces away.

"Roman, why don’t you go inside and rest in your room for a while?" Damian suggested, his voice regaining its steady, authoritative clip. "You have run enough for one morning."

At the cue, the servant appointed to Roman’s service stepped forward, offering a hand to the boy. Roman gave Eilika one last squeeze before following the servant back toward the manor.

The remaining staff took the hint as well, bowing and retreating, leaving only the head butler standing at a discreet distance near the doors.

"Forgive me for waking up so late," Eilika said, bowing her head as a flush of embarrassment colored her cheeks.

"It is fine. We both need to go out later this afternoon," Damian replied as he began to walk toward the shaded perimeter of the garden.

Eilika hurried to catch up, her skirts rustling against the grass until she was walking at his side. "Will Roman remain within the manor?"

"Yes. We cannot take him outside," Damian explained. "Maurice provided intelligence this morning regarding a market where slaves are being traded. Children are among them. It is a dangerous environment, but since this concerns the young children, I believe you should accompany me. However," he turned to catch her eye, "you must stay close to me at all times."

"I understand," she murmured. As they came to a halt under the shade of a Great Oak, she noticed the beads of sweat glinting on his forehead from the morning’s exertion. Stepping directly into his path, she reached up and gently wiped his brow with her handkerchief. "It was good to see the Duke playing with his son today."

"I shall credit you for that," Damian stated, standing perfectly still as she tended to him. "Had you not spoken of it, I might have continued to ignore the necessity."

Eilika arched an eyebrow, her gaze searching his. "May I know why you ignore your own boy? How long has it been since you played with him like this?"

She caught the flicker of hesitation in his eyes, a momentary crack in his iron facade. "Is it so difficult to tell me? I only wish to assist you in creating the best memories for Roman."

"My first wife died giving birth to him," Damian replied.

"And you blame him for that?" Her eyes studied his, unblinking and filled with sadness.

"The physician mentioned the complications beforehand. I told Lina to... Never mind. It is in the past," Damian said. "I feel terrible even dwelling on it." He looked away, inwardly questioning why he had allowed such a private confession to slip.

"For a mother, her child is the most precious thing in the world," Eilika stated firmly. "I cannot fully comprehend the grief you underwent, but Roman has suffered more than you. He has lived without the love of a mother and the warmth of a father. Your late wife would be deeply upset to see how you have treated Roman, and yourself."

Damian looked at her. "I’m treating you badly too," he said.

Eilika chuckled. "I may not receive the love of a husband, but I don’t mind it. I’ve accustomed to not being loved. Moreover, you are loyal to your first wife."

"Shouldn’t you be jealous and upset?" Damian asked.

"And what will it bring me? Only pain, and agony," Eilika said. "I don’t want to get hurt in the end. Your first wife has occupied your heart. Your second wife can’t replace that," she asserted.