I met his gaze steadily, keeping my own expression neutral.

Now what this fucker wants with me?

"Cedric," I said evenly. "Didn't realize you were looking for me."

His eyes flashed, and I knew immediately, whatever was about to happen, it wasn't going to be pleasant.

Should have known.

I stood up slowly, brushing bark and dried leaves from my clothes. The rough texture of the oak's bark had left imprints on my palms.

Cedric took a step closer, his polished boots crunching against the gravel path.

The late afternoon sun caught the silver threading on his jacket, making him look every bit the perfect noble son he'd always been groomed to be.

His lip curled into something ugly. "So the trash decided to come back?"

The words hung in the air between us, sharp and deliberate. He'd been waiting to say that, probably rehearsing it the moment he heard I'd returned.

I met his gaze and shrugged, keeping my tone deliberately casual, almost bored. "Yeah. Back to the trash bin where I belong, right?"

His face flushed red. Rage flashed across his features, raw, unfiltered, the kind that came from someone who'd never learned to control it because he'd never had to.

Before I could fully register the shift in his stance, he lunged forward and threw a punch at my face.

Not a trained strike. Just blind anger translated into motion, telegraphed and clumsy.

I didn't move to block it.

Instead, I flicked my wrist, sending a small pebble I'd picked up earlier skittering across the ground directly under Cedric's advancing foot.

His boot caught on it mid-step.

Time seemed to slow as his expression shifted from fury to confusion to dawning horror.

His balance broke completely, momentum carrying him forward in an uncontrolled stumble.

Arms windmilling as he crashed hard into the trunk of the tree beside me, his shoulder and face slamming against rough bark with a meaty thud that made me wince internally.

"Shit!" The curse exploded from him as he stumbled back, one hand flying to his face, the other bracing against the tree for support. His carefully styled hair was disheveled now, leaves and small bits of bark clinging to the strands.

I just watched, keeping my expression carefully neutral. Inside, a small part of me felt satisfaction watching him struggle to regain his dignity.

Cedric lowered his hand slowly, revealing a red mark blooming across his left cheek and a fresh scrape on his forehead where the bark had torn skin. Blood welled up in tiny beads along the scratch.

His eyes were wild now, anger mixed with humiliation. A dangerous combination, especially in someone like Cedric who'd built his entire identity around superiority.

"You," He pushed off the tree, fists clenching so hard his knuckles went white, breathing hard through his nose. "You fucking—"

"Cedric!"

The voice cut through the garden like a whip crack, sharp and commanding.

Both of us turned.

Victor emerged from the path behind Cedric, his brown hair and grey eyes—so identical to Father's it was almost uncanny—catching the afternoon light.

He wore similar formal attire to Cedric, though he filled it with more natural authority, like the clothes were made for him rather than something he'd put on to impress.

His expression was carefully controlled, but I could see the fury simmering beneath the surface. The kind of anger that came from having to clean up someone else's mess.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Victor's tone was cold, precise, each word dropped like a stone. "You were supposed to stay inside with the guests."

Cedric turned to face him, his face still flushed with rage and embarrassment. "But he, he made me—"

"I don't care what he did." Victor cut him off with a sharp gesture, one hand slicing through the air dismissively. "Father has guests. Important guests. And you're supposed to be there representing the family, not out here brawling in the gardens like some common street thug."

"Victor, you don't understand, he—"

"Now, Cedric." Victor's voice dropped lower, more dangerous. Not a request. A command.

Cedric's jaw worked, teeth grinding audibly. His whole body was tense, coiled like a spring ready to snap. For a moment, I thought he might actually refuse, might turn his anger on Victor instead.

Then something in Victor's expression must have convinced him otherwise.

He shot one more glare in my direction, eyes promising violence the next time we were alone, then turned sharply on his heel and stalked back toward the manor. His footsteps were heavy on the gravel path, each one a statement of barely contained fury.

Silence settled over the garden, broken only by distant birdsong and the rustle of leaves in the breeze.

Victor remained, standing on the path with his hands clasped behind his back. Watching me with the same analytical expression, measuring, calculating, trying to determine what exactly I'd become in the months since I'd left.

The silence stretched between us, neither comfortable nor entirely hostile. Just... waiting.

Then he smirked, just slightly, a subtle twist of his lips that didn't reach his eyes but carried something that might have been amusement.

"You could have sent a letter," he said, his tone conversational now, like we were discussing the weather.

"Let us know you were coming back. Would have been the proper thing to do."

I scoffed. "Then what? You'd have rolled out a welcome carpet? Thrown a party?"

Victor's smirk widened fractionally. He took a few steps closer, his boots quiet on the path, moving with the easy confidence of someone who'd never doubted their place in the world.

"Nothing like that," he admitted, shrugging with practiced ease. "Just... wanted to see how strong you've become." His eyes traveled over me deliberately, cataloging every detail, the way I stood, the sword at my hip, the faint healing cuts visible on my exposed skin, the calluses on my hands from weapon training.

"Curious if the Academy actually made anything useful out of you. Or if you're still the same disappointment Father always said you were."

I just met his gaze steadily and said nothing.

Victor studied me for a moment longer.

"We'll spar sometime during the break. See if those mean anything outside Academy walls."

It wasn't a question.

He didn't wait for a response. Just turned smoothly and followed Cedric's path back toward the manor, his footsteps measured and deliberate, each one perfectly controlled.

I stood there for a long moment after he disappeared, alone again beneath the oak tree, watching the spot where he'd been standing.

The garden felt different now. The peace I'd found earlier was gone.

Can't even let me fucking rest, I thought bitterly.

I looked down at my hands, still holding the half-carved branch and knife, and considered going back to my spot against the tree. Finishing what I'd started. Pretending the interruption hadn't happened. Pretending that the last ten minutes hadn't reminded me exactly why I'd been so eager to leave this place in the first place.

But the illusion was shattered now. The garden didn't feel quiet anymore, just empty in a way that made my chest tight and my shoulders tense.

The shadows had grown longer while we'd been talking, the sun sinking lower toward the horizon.

Evening would come soon, bringing with it dinner.

Great. Can't wait.

I sheathed the knife in my boot, tossed the branch aside, it landed with a soft thud in the pile of leaves, and started walking.

Not back to the manor. Not yet.

Just... somewhere else. Anywhere else where I could breathe without feeling like the walls were closing in.

My feet carried me deeper into the gardens, down paths I'd walked countless times as a kid, or rather, paths the original Jin had walked, memories that sat in my head like secondhand stories.

Past the rose garden.

Past the training yard where Victor and Cedric had spent their childhood learning to be proper heirs while I'd been... what? Forgotten? Dismissed?

Past everything that had once been home and now just felt like a museum of someone else's life.

I kept walking until the manor was just a distant shape behind me, until the sounds of civilization faded into the natural quiet of late afternoon turning to evening.

Only then did I stop, finding another tree, an old willow this time, its branches hanging low enough to create a curtain of green, and settling against its trunk.

I tilted my head back, staring up through the leaves at the patches of sky visible between them, watching the light slowly change from gold to amber to the first hints of purple.

One month, I reminded myself. Just one month of this, and then I can go back to the Academy.

I closed my eyes and tried to find that empty peace again, that quiet space where thoughts stopped mattering and I could just exist.

But it didn't come.

So I just sat there, waiting for the sun to set.

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