The carriage rolled quietly down the cobbled road, its wheels echoing in the hush of the countryside. Inside, Charles sat with one hand resting on the window's edge, his gaze fixed beyond the glass. Trees passed like ghosts in the misty morning. In his other hand, an envelope, aged, sealed, heavy with old secrets.
His grip tightened around it.
"Edward… Are you alive?" he whispered to himself.
In the west wing guest room of the mansion, laughter burst out suddenly.
Oliver leaned back into the sofa, a grin stretched across his face. "I told you I'd win."
Noah blinked at the chessboard in front of him, his brows furrowed. "How did I lose?" He pouted, rubbing his eyes like a sulking child. "I was so sure I'd beat you this time."
Oliver chuckled and tossed a pillow at him. "Well, you didn't. Accept defeat gracefully."
Noah groaned. "You're a cruel man."
Moments later, the main door creaked open. Walter strode in, dusting snowflakes off his coat. Bretum bowed slightly.
