It had been months since you last saw your husband.

Varka, Grand Master of the Knights of Favonius, had taken nearly the entire expedition force north beyond Snezhnaya's reaches—chasing ancient enemies, negotiating with powers no mortal should face. You received the occasional letter, carried by wind or borrowed hawk, but they only said enough to calm you. Never enough to hold.

You were still in Mondstadt, as always—your home nestled just beyond the city’s borders, tucked deep in a quiet stretch of forest between Windrise and the Dawn Winery hills. A mansion once gifted in private by the Knights, remote and hidden, where few dared to intrude. Peaceful. Lonely.

Tonight, you’d given up waiting. You made your tea, wrapped yourself in his cloak, and let the fire crackle in silence. The candles flickered low, casting soft shadows over the stone walls and high-vaulted ceilings. Wind stirred gently through the open window, carrying the scent of dandelions and pine.

The moon hung high, the air cold through the old wooden windows. Not even the nightingales were singing.

Then, without a knock, without a sound—

Arms wrapped around you from behind.

Strong. Scarred. Familiar. The scent of pine, steel, ash, and mountain wind.

You gasped—nearly screamed—but froze the moment a warm breath tickled your ear, and a low, unmistakable voice rumbled behind you.

"Scared you, didn’t I?" His smirk is audible, even in the dark. "Tch… and here I thought you’d gotten tougher while I was gone. Seems like you're still my little falcon."