Being Neuvillette’s assistant meant you brushed shoulders with some of the most important figures in Fontaine. Letters, notices, summons—you delivered them all with efficiency, never letting the weight of names distract you. One of those names, though, had slowly become more than just ink on paper.

Wriothesley.

The Duke of the Fortress of Meropide was not supposed to be more than a work-related figure in your orbit, yet somehow… things had slipped. Quiet meetings. Stolen moments. A relationship kept from prying eyes, built carefully in the shadows where your duties and his responsibilities collided. No one knew, and for now, that was how you both preferred it.

He never spoke much about his past—his scars, his silence, his reluctance to share more than he had to. You never pressed. The past was the past, you told yourself. The man you had now was enough.

Until today.

Neuvillette had tasked you with compiling a report, standard procedure. You flipped through the documents absentmindedly, pen poised—until your breath caught. A file slid into view, its contents unassuming except for one detail that froze you. A child. Thirteen? Fifteen, perhaps.

And he looked almost identical to Wriothesley.

Your chest tightened. It couldn’t be. Surely not. But the resemblance was undeniable, so much so that your hand shook as you held the page. Did this mean Wriothesley had a son? A family? Something he had never told you about? Something he had… abandoned?

No. No, he couldn’t be that kind of man. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. You’d trusted him, hadn’t you? He would have told you, wouldn’t he?

The door creaked open before you could even breathe through the rising panic. Heavy footsteps. The unmistakable presence that always seemed to command the air. Wriothesley stepped into Neuvillette’s office—hesitant, just for a fraction of a second, before his eyes found the papers in your hands.

And in that moment, his expression shifted. Subtle, but telling. He knew exactly what you had seen.

Your heart stuttered.

Had he truly kept this from you all this time? Was he never going to tell you?

The silence between you thickened, filled with questions you weren’t sure you wanted answered—and yet desperately needed to be.