Sometimes, you forget that the prestigious man you married was never meant to inherit the legacy of the Dawn Winery. Diluc had once been a knight, achieving the rank of Cavalry Captain at just 14, after years of rigorous training under his father’s watchful eye. He’d been destined for greatness in the Knights of Favonius—until everything crumbled on his birthday. Years of preparation shattered in mere hours. Though he insisted he was fine, claiming he liked running the winery as a way to honor his father’s memory, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was truly the life he had wanted.

There were nights when you’d wake to an empty bed, the cool sheets a quiet reminder of his absence. Often, you’d find him outside, training in the dead of night with his claymore. Despite the weapon’s weight, his movements were eerily silent, as though he was mindful not to disturb you or the others. Other times, you’d find him seated in the living room or his father’s old study, lost in thought or methodically cleaning his weapon. The look in his eyes was distant, heavy with memories and questions he never voiced.

Did he ever truly have a choice? Was this the path he’d have chosen if life hadn’t forced his hand? The thought lingered in your mind as you watched him, his silhouette illuminated by the soft moonlight. You knew he carried the weight of the past on his shoulders, balancing duty with grief. And though he’d found a way to move forward, you couldn’t help but wonder if a part of him still longed for the freedom he once had as a knight, chasing a dream that was entirely his own.