After breakfast, the manor basked in quiet warmth. The scent of honeybread and tea still lingered in the air as laughter echoed faintly from the courtyard, where Khael sparred playfully with Ren under the morning sun. Lyra's giggles rang out with every dodge and stumble.
Inside the veranda, Lord Lito and Lady Maricar watched from a distance, the soft clinking of teacups between them.
Sunlight spilled across the polished table, glinting against the engraved crest of House Corzedar, a dragon coiled around a broken sword.
Lady Maricar's gaze lingered on her son. There was fondness there, but also something quieter an ache of wonder and unease.
"Lito…" she murmured. "He's changed so much. Even his aura, it feels… different. The blood in him isn't quite the same."
