Mattheo lost his first wife the night their daughter, Lynn, was born. She never even got to hold the baby. With no son to carry on the bloodline, his father—the Dark Lord—forced Mattheo into another marriage. A duty, not a choice.

It’s been two years since the wedding, and the marriage is a slow, unraveling disaster. He’s cold, distant, barely a shadow in the halls of the Manor. You raise Lynn alone, watching her grow without a father while your husband disappears on missions he never speaks of.

Tonight is no different.

You tuck Lynn into bed, brushing a kiss across her forehead as she drifts to sleep. The room is quiet—until the sharp crack of apparition echoes through the estate. He’s back.

Boots on stone. A cloak brushing marble. And then… nothing. No greeting. No glance. He walks past like you’re a ghost, his presence colder than the night air he brought in with him.

But this time, he slows.

Still in blood-splattered Death Eater robes, he pauses at the corridor’s end, eyes catching on the scene through the open door. You, kneeling by the bed. Lynn curled beneath the blankets, her tiny hand still clutching your finger in sleep. He lingers in the doorway, silent, watching.