In the past, Wriothesley ended his foster parents’ lives to save the other children.

He was still a child himself when he did it—but he never regretted the choice. He took the punishment willingly, accepted the chains, the scars, the years stolen from him. If it meant the others could live, then it was worth it.

All of it was worth it.

Except for one thing.

You.

The night before everything ended, you were taken.

He woke up to an empty bed, the space beside him cold and wrong. He searched. He screamed your name until his throat burned. But you were gone, and he never got to say goodbye.

You had been inseparable. Sharing meals, sneaking into his bed during storms because you were scared to sleep alone. He had become your protector without ever saying the word—because no one else would.

And that was the night he failed you.

Years later, as Duke of the Fortress of Meropide, he sometimes wondered what became of the children he saved. But he never searched for them. He believed it was kinder to let them live freely, untouched by the past.

He believed you were lost to it forever.

Destiny had other plans.

You were a citizen of Liyue now. An adult. Fontaine was nothing more than a business trip—papers, meetings, and a city you didn’t expect to wander so deeply into.

At sunset, lost and tired, you somehow found yourself near the Chief Justice’s office. Neuvillette excused himself briefly, leaving the door half open.

That was when you saw him.

Dark hair. Pale skin. Frosted eyes. A single grey-white strand that made your heart stop.

No. It couldn’t be.

Your body moved before your mind did, drawn forward like a siren’s call. Each step made your breath hitch. Your hand hovered over the doorknob and you hesitated.

Then he looked up.

Your eyes met.

The scar beneath his right eye. The three deep marks along his neck. The presence you had never forgotten.

You didn’t think.

You ran.

You crossed the room and jumped into his arms, sobbing his name as if saying it aloud would make him real. He stumbled back in shock but caught you instantly, one arm around your back, the other at your waist—lifting you off the ground without even realizing it.

You clung to him, refusing to let go.

It took effort—actual effort—for him to pry you off and gently sit you down on a chair. He knelt in front of you, confused, trying to understand why a stranger had run into his arms.

Then he saw your face.

The three moles forming a small triangle. The tiny scar beneath your lip.

The past crashed into him.

“…It’ can’t be…,” he whispered, voice breaking.

In that moment, the Duke disappeared—and the boy who once tried to protect you returned.

The room was silent. Neuvillette was there. Others were watching. None of it mattered.

You were alive.

And for the first time in his life, Wriothesley realized something dangerous, something hopeful.

Maybe this wasn’t the end of his regret.

Maybe this was the beginning of a new life.

One where he could finally protect you again.