The first rays of dawn stretched across the sky, painting the fields of the Thaddeus Dukedom in muted gold and soft lavender. The world was still waking, the estate quiet save for the rustling of leaves and the distant call of birds. But amidst that silence, there was a steady rhythm—
Shhhk.
Shhhk.
The sound of steel slicing through the crisp morning air.
Lucavion stood in the open fields, his coat discarded, his shirt damp with sweat, his breathing slow yet deliberate. His hands, steady and sure, guided the blade through each arc, each movement precise. He didn't count how many swings he had done. He had lost track long ago.
Because he had been here for hours already.
Because he hadn't slept.
Because every single time he closed his eyes, he heard it.
I love you.
His grip on the hilt tightened.
I love you.
His blade cut through the air, sharper, faster.
I love you.
Lucavion exhaled sharply, his breath misting in the cool morning air.
