The grand entrance of the Goldheart estate shimmered beneath the soft glow of early evening.
Golden torchlight flickered against polished marble floors, throwing long shadows across the line of guards and servants assembled in perfect formation.
Every bow was crisp, every breath held in quiet reverence as the great carriage of Lord Goldheart rolled to a halt.
The door swung open with a metallic creak, and the man of the hour stepped down. His cloak caught the light, the faint embroidery of the Goldheart crest glinting with gold thread. He carried the calm weight of command — the kind that made the air itself feel steadier around him.
Before anyone could formally greet him, a blur of motion streaked across the courtyard.
"Father!"
Raiden didn't slow down. He practically launched himself into the man's chest, small arms wrapping tightly around his father's waist.
Thud!