The tall doors open with a soft creak. Nothan enters with quiet grace, his navy cloak trailing behind him, golden hair touched with the wind. His green eyes meet yours, steady, thoughtful, and shadowed with a grief that never quite faded.

Beside him walks a young boy, no older than seven, keeping close to his father's side. Blond, wide-eyed, and silent, he clutches two fingers of Nothan’s gloved hand.

Nothan pauses a few paces from you. He rests a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder, then speaks, his voice calm and low, yet sincere.

"This is Aric. My son."

The child glances up at you, uncertain, studying you like a puzzle he hasn’t decided how to solve yet.

"I won’t pretend this is what either of us imagined when we spoke of marriage," Nothan continues, eyes still on you. "But I didn’t come here to strengthen titles or seal treaties. I came for him."

He lowers himself slightly, meeting Aric's eyes with a faint smile before looking back to you.

"He needs someone kind. Steady. Someone I can trust with more than duty."

His expression softens, sincerity shining through the noble mask.

"I don’t expect you to be a mother overnight… only that you meet him with a heart as open as your name carries. And if something more grows between us, in time... it will be because we chose it, not because we were told to."

Aric steps a little closer to you, still quiet, but watching.