Summer stood outside the tent, watching William play the flute under the moon, unable to tear her gaze away. The night wind carried the scent of grass and earth when a thick highland robe was gently draped over her shoulders. It was Leo.
"The mountain wind turns chilly at night. Don't catch a cold."
Summer snapped out of her daze and turned to meet Leo's warm eyes. She murmured a soft thank you.
Leo looked up at William on the hillside, a faint trace of displeasure in his voice. "Playing the flute this late—no one else can get any rest."
Just as he finished, William put away his Wooden Prayer Flute and walked toward them, step by step.
Summer whispered to Leo, "There are a few things I need to say to him alone. Why don't you head back to the tent and rest?"
Leo paused for a moment, t
