The silence was the first thing Elara noticed. It wasn't the heavy, watchful silence of a house holding its breath, nor the quiet hum of a great manor at rest. It was a new kind of silence, light and clean, as if a great weight had been lifted from the very air itself. The grandfather clock in the main hall, which had been silent for as long as she had known Alaric, let out a slow, sonorous chime, its deep gongs echoing through the manor with a resonance that felt both ancient and brand new.
Alaric's hand, still in hers, felt real and solid. She turned to him, and the moonlight filtering through the restored windowpane caught the exhausted relief on his face. The rigid lines of tension that had etched themselves around his eyes and mouth were gone, replaced by a softer, more vulnerable ex
