Back in the continent of Elora, in the Zenithara estate, the servants moved quickly through the halls and courtyards.

Morning had just arrived, and winter made its presence clear.

Pale snow clouds hung low in the sky, and a thin layer of frost covered the stone paths.

Even so, the air felt clean and fresh.

A gentle cold brushed against the skin, waking the senses.

The large estate was already full of life as servants prepared breakfast, cleaned the halls, and carried warm water and fresh linens.

It was a busy but orderly scene.

In the wide garden of the estate, a small tea table had been set beneath a bare tree.

Steam slowly rose from the teacups, fading into the cold air.

Two women stood there, facing each other.

One of them was a middle-aged woman, around forty years old.

She had long black hair that fell neatly down her back and calm blue eyes that carried quiet authority.

Despite her age, her beauty had not faded.

Instead, it had matured into something gentle and dignified.

She wore simple winter clothes, soft and warm, with blue flower embroidery stitched carefully along the sleeves.

She was Elena D. Zenithara, the matriarch of the Zenithara house.

Elena lifted her teacup and took a slow sip, enjoying the warmth.

Her movements were relaxed, as if the cold and the busy estate did not trouble her at all.

She spoke in a calm tone as she chatted with the woman across from her.

The second woman looked much younger, around twenty years old.

She had long red hair, bright like fire, tied neatly into a bun.

A few loose strands moved gently with the winter breeze.

Her eyes were deep red, shining like polished gems, full of life and sharp awareness.

Although Charlotte's facial features were the same as before, she had grown a little taller.

The quiet passing of time had shaped her into someone even more mature and beautiful.

There was a calm charm about her now, one that did not need effort to show.

She was sipping her tea as she spoke with Elena.

A gentle smile rested on her lips, polite and warm.

Yet, if one looked closely, a faint worry could be seen in her eyes.

It was subtle, but it was there.

And as always, that worry came from Vivian.

Two years ago, back at the academy, Vivian had gone out for a walk like he always did.

Charlotte had not thought much of it at first.

He often wandered around on his own, and he always returned before lunch.

But that day, lunch passed.

Then another hour.

Then another.

Even two hours after lunch, there was no sign of him.

Charlotte could no longer stay calm.

Her heart felt restless, as if something was wrong.

She left in a hurry and went straight to the lake, the place he often visited when he wanted to be alone.

The moment she reached the lake, her chest tightened painfully.

It felt as if an invisible hand had grabbed her heart and squeezed it.

Dark thoughts began to flood her mind, one after another.

What if something had happened to him?

What if it was like their past life?

The thought alone made her legs weak.

As evening turned into night, Charlotte remained by the lake.

The sky darkened, the air grew cold, and yet she did not move.

When tears finally fell, they did not stop.

She cried openly, like a child who had lost something precious.

Then, in the quiet of the night, Vivian appeared in front of her.

Just like that.

He stood there as if nothing had happened, calm and unharmed.

Charlotte lifted her head, her vision blurred by tears, unable to believe what she was seeing.

In that moment, relief washed over her so strongly that her body trembled.

But when Charlotte looked at him more closely, something felt wrong.

Vivian was there, yet not fully there.

His figure looked clear, but also unreal, like a reflection on water.

When Charlotte rushed forward and tried to grab his arm, her hand passed right through him.

There was no warmth. No touch.

In that moment, her mind broke.

She burst into tears again, louder than before, her body shaking as she cried.

"Vivian… are you a ghost?" she sobbed.

Her thoughts fell apart. Fear crushed her chest. "How could this happen? How did you die?"

She did not wait for him to answer.

Before Vivian could even open his mouth, Charlotte formed a small blade in her hand and pressed it against her own throat.

Her eyes were filled with tears, but her voice was firm in a terrifying way.

"Wait a bit," she said through her sobs. "I'll become a ghost too."

At that moment, even the night air seemed to freeze.

If Vivian had been even a second late, she really would have cut her own throat.

But he moved instantly. He reached out and grabbed her wrist with force.

This time, she could feel him.

The blade fell from her hand and vanished as she collapsed forward, crying harder than before.

This girl was truly a maniac.

It took a long time for Vivian to calm her down.

Only after her crying weakened did he finally explain.

He told her that he was not dead.

He said he was trapped in something very important to him.

Something he could not leave yet.

He asked her not to worry.

And most of all, he asked her to take care of his mother.

Charlotte listened while crying quietly, her hands tightly clutching his sleeve, afraid he would disappear again.

When he finally faded away that night, she did not chase him.

She only sat there, hugging her knees, repeating his words again and again in her heart.

That was why she was like this now.

If Vivian had vanished without saying anything, without explaining even a little, then only the gods would know what this lunatic girl might have done.

"Charlotte, when will Vivian return? Did he tell you anything about it?" Elena asked.

Her tone was calm as she took a small sip of her tea.

The sudden question pulled Charlotte back to reality.

She straightened slightly and replied without thinking too much.

"Oh… he should be returning next year," she said.

It had already been two years since Vivian vanished.

Back then, he had told her that it would take him around three to four years.

So, without lying completely, she said he would return next year.

"Hm." Elena hummed softly in thought as she took another sip of her tea.

"Why did he suddenly want to get a wedding dress from the Hayes Kingdom?" she asked, clearly puzzled.

"We could have made it here. The quality would have been the best. And even if he wanted one from the Hayes Kingdom, we could have simply ordered it."

She paused, then added with a strange look, "And who takes three years just to get a wedding dress?"

"Hic—"

Charlotte almost choked on her tea.

A sharp hiccup escaped her lips, and she hurriedly covered her mouth.

Cold sweat appeared on her forehead, her heart beating wildly.

She had been careless.

Back then, when she returned to the estate and Elena asked where Vivian was, Charlotte had been completely unprepared.

Panic had taken over, and she had made up an excuse on the spot.

She said that Vivian had gone to the Hayes Kingdom to personally bring back a wedding dress for their future wedding.

At the time, it had sounded reasonable enough.

Now, sitting in front of Elena and hearing her words, Charlotte realized how strange it actually was.

Three years.

For a wedding dress.

She forced a weak smile, her fingers tightening around her teacup, silently praying that Elena would not dig any deeper.

"W-well…" Charlotte stammered.

Her eyes drifted around, clearly searching for a proper excuse.

"Well… um… yeah. He went there to learn it… yes…"

Her face slowly turned red as the words left her mouth.

Even she did not fully understand what she was saying anymore.

"He wanted my wedding dress to be made by himself," she continued in a rush.

"So he went there to learn the craft. After he learns it, he will make it himself."

By the time she finished, her face was so red that her cheeks, her hair, and even her eyes seemed to share the same color.

But Elena understood it in a completely different way.

"Aren't you a shy girl," Elena said with a light laugh.

She paused, then teased gently, "You two are getting married soon, so there's no need to be so embarrassed."

Hearing this, Charlotte let out a quiet sigh of relief.

It was fortunate that the topic was Elena's son.

Whenever someone mentioned Vivian, Elena's sharp mind would soften at once.

She would stop questioning things deeply, her thoughts slowing down without her noticing.

Everyone in the Zenithara estate knew this weakness of hers.

And everyone took advantage of it.

From her husband…

To her soon-to-be daughter-in-law.

Elena took another sip of tea, her teasing smile growing wider.

"So after he returns," she said lightly, "how about you make me a grandmother within the next two years?"

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