The forest had not changed.

Even after all the years, it still held the same quiet magic—the same scent of rain and pine, the same rhythm of wind through the branches that once hid their laughter. The Kingdom of Alluria felt very far away here; the sea breeze, the marble halls, the weight of the crown—all faded beneath the hush of the Tartarus woods.

King Lyon slowed his horse as the path narrowed, the fog curling like ghosts around his boots when he dismounted. He no longer wore his royal mantle; only a dark cloak, simple and travel-worn. The years had carved a few fine lines at the corners of his eyes, a trace of silver at his temples—but time had not dulled him. His presence still carried quiet strength, and his eyes—deep, steady, blue—still burned with the same warmth she once knew.

He remembered this place.

How many times had he walked this same path under moonlight, when he was still only a prince—young, foolish, in love with a woman the kingdom could never accept? The forest was where he had first felt free, where her laughter became the only truth that mattered. But duty had called him back, and when he left… he had sworn it was forever.

He had told himself it was for the good of Alluria. That a king cannot love a witch. That crowns and promises were heavier than hearts.

And yet—he had come back.

The faint glow of her cottage shimmered through the fog, golden against the dark. For a moment, Lyon just stood there at the edge of the clearing, listening to the low hum of magic that seemed to know his name. His chest ached at the memory of her touch, the sound of her voice whispering promises that time had never managed to silence.

He took a slow breath, steadying himself before he finally spoke into the night, his voice soft, hoarse—almost a confession.

“I wasn’t sure I’d find the path again…”

He took one step closer, then another, the mist parting around him as if the forest itself remembered.

“But I suppose… some things never forget.”

And so, the King of Alluria—lover, betrayer, and man bound by crown and memory—walked toward the door of the woman he had never truly left behind.