Several hours had passed, and the light that once dawned the land had long since been replaced by the silent embrace of night. In the grand estate of House Enid, within the confines of his dimly lit office, Duke Ramiro Enid sat in pensive silence.

  He had returned safely from his daily visit to the Noah household, accompanied by his youngest daughter, Serena. Frail and delicate, Serena required immediate care, a necessity that had become an unyielding truth within House Enid. Though she longed for independence, Ramiro could not allow her the freedom she desired — not after what had transpired in the past, a tragic event that left his beloved wife, Karen, in an unending slumber from the very day she gave birth to Serena.

  The room was still, broken only by the soft rustle of paper as Ramiro unfolded the letter handed to him by his most loyal and only butler, Truman. The old servant stood at his side, his back straight, his expression carefully composed yet edged with unspoken sympathy.

  Ramiro’s eyes darkened at the sight of the gold royal seal pressed into the envelope — a crown flanked by two wings — the unmistakable symbol of the royal family.

  "His Highness Aldrich… another mission, no doubt," Ramiro muttered, his voice a quiet growl. "And, of course, it involves those infernal demons or the cultists who worship them… or their false god."

  The weight of the task hung in the air like an unwelcome guest. His jaw tightened as his gaze drifted to the closed window. The full moon stared back at him, casting a pale glow over the study.

  Truman, ever observant, noticed the subtle shift in his master’s demeanor. He knew exactly where Ramiro’s thoughts had wandered — to Lady Karen.

  'He’s thinking of her again,' Truman thought sadly. Memories of a happier Ramiro surfaced — a man who once smiled freely in Karen’s presence, a man softened by her warmth.

  'A cruel fate,' the butler mused. 'The day Lady Serena was born was the day Lady Karen fell into that accursed sleep… not even the kingdom’s greatest mages, with all their knowledge of curses and healing, could wake her.'

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  Breaking the silence, Ramiro’s voice cut through the air. "Truman."

  "Yes, my lord?" the butler responded immediately.

  "Serena is under your care during my absence. Keep her safe — at all costs."

  "Of course, my lord. I shall protect Lady Serena with my life," Truman replied, his hand placed firmly over his heart.

  Ramiro gave a firm nod. "Good." Without another word, he rose from his chair, his white cloak flowing soundly behind him. The steady clink of his armored boots echoed against the polished tiles as he strode toward the door.

  He paused, glancing over his shoulder, his cold blue eyes flickering with a faint, menacing glow. "I leave shortly… but first, there’s something I must attend to."

  Truman bowed deeply. "As you wish, my lord."

  Ramiro departed, his steps unwavering, his mind fixed on a single destination. His path led him to a sealed chamber, its entrance shimmering with a silvery-blue magical barrier — a spell he had cast himself, eight years prior.

  He raised a hand to the barrier, his voice a mere whisper. "Karen…"

  Longing and sorrow clung to the single name, spoken like a prayer — or a curse. For eight years, he had lived without her, yet her absence loomed over him like a shadow that refused to fade.

  And now, as the moon continued its silent vigil, the Duke of House Enid prepared once again to walk the path of duty — while a part of him remained frozen in time, standing vigil over the woman he could not save.