The heartfelt conversation between Arthur and Billy had already taken place, and Billy had since gone to rest.
Above the lawns, the lanterns cast a soft glow, their flickering lights reminiscent of dying stars swaying in the midnight breeze.
Most of the family members had turned in for the night, satiated from the evening's food and comfort, and enjoying a fresh sense of peace that Arthur had brought back into their lives.
Yet, throughout the estate, there remained pockets of wakefulness: guards on patrol, night staff wrapping up their tasks, and one solitary figure standing on the balcony that overlooked the Lower Sanctum,Julian.
Leaning against the railing, his broad shoulders were tense, and his gaze was fixed on the sprawling city below. The wind playfully tugged at his coat, accentuating the tautness in his stance.
He didn't appear to be angry or distressed; instead, he seemed like a man on the verge of confronting something he had long avoided.
