Five.

Eirlys POV:

I should have burned that damn parchment the second General Rhydian walked away.

The unfinished note.

*Little Wildflower...*

Only one person had ever called me that. And now it sat on my kitchen table all night like it owned the place. I hated how my heart still twisted every time my eyes landed on those words. I hated him even more for it.

"Mama?"

I quickly folded the paper and tucked it away as Auren wandered into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his big silver-gray eyes.

"Morning, sleepy wolf," I said, forcing a smile.

He let out a big dramatic yawn. "I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry," I teased, ruffling his messy curls.

He grinned up at me, all bright and innocent. "I'm growing, Mama. That's what you said, remember?"

"So you keep reminding me," I replied with a soft laugh.

By the time breakfast was ready—simple porridge with a bit of honey—the cottage almost felt normal again. Almost.

Until a knock came at the door.

Auren looked up from his bowl, eyes hopeful. "Is it the soldier?"

"I don't know, sweetheart. Stay there."

I wiped my hands on my apron and opened the door.

It wasn't General Rhydian.

It was *him*. Kaelor.

He stood there alone. No fancy royal cloak, no armor. Just a plain dark shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, showing the strong lines of muscle I used to know so well.

For one ridiculous heartbeat, he looked exactly like the man who used to carry buckets of water into my little cottage every morning, whistling off-key.

Then reality came crashing back.

"What do you want?" I asked, keeping my voice cold.

His eyes searched my face carefully. "I won't take much of your time."

"You already took four years," I shot back.

Pain flickered across his features, raw and real. He didn't argue. Didn't defend himself. He just stood there for a second, then held out a small wooden carving.

A wolf.

My breath caught in my throat. It was slightly crooked, one ear higher than the other. Exactly the way his carvings had always turned out.

"I made this... for Auren," he said quietly.

I stared at the little wolf, then back at him. "You think a toy makes up for missing his entire life?"

"No," he answered, voice low. "I don't."

"Then why are you here?"

"I wanted to give him something from me."

"You already did," I said sharply. "A father who never came home."

Silence stretched between us, heavy and uncomfortable.

He lowered his hand but didn't put the carving away. "I understand why you hate me."

"No." I met his eyes straight on. "I don't hate you." For a moment, hope flickered across his face.

I crushed it fast. "Hate takes too much energy. And my son needs that energy more than you do." His face paled. "So if you've come here looking for forgiveness..."I shook my head. "...you've wasted another trip."

Before he could say anything else, a tiny voice called from inside. "Mama?"

Auren appeared in the doorway, curious.

The second he saw Kaelor, he stopped short. Neither of them spoke at first.

Kaelor's fingers tightened around the wooden wolf. Auren's eyes went straight to the carving, then to the worn one he always carried in his pocket. His little forehead wrinkled up. "They look the same."

Kaelor swallowed hard. "I made both of them."

I stepped in front of Auren right away. "Go inside, sweetheart."

"But Mama—"

"Inside. Now, please."

Auren obeyed, though he glanced back twice before disappearing into the cottage.

Kaelor watched him go, his expression impossible to read. Finally, he placed the new carving gently on the porch step.

"I'm leaving," he said.

"Good."

"But..." He looked at the toy instead of me. "Whether you throw it away or keep it... it's his."

Without waiting for permission or asking another question, he turned and walked away.

I watched until he disappeared beyond the old oak tree. Only then did I realize something. He hadn't once tried to step inside the cottage. Hadn't tried to touch Auren. Hadn't even reached for me.

He had respected every single boundary I'd thrown up.

That should have made me feel victorious. Instead, it just made me angry.

Because if he'd shouted, if he'd demanded to see his son, if he'd acted like the arrogant prince everyone seemed to fear... hating him would have been so much easier.

A small hand tugged at my dress. "Mama?"

I looked down. Auren was pointing at the wooden wolf still resting on the porch. "Can I pick it up?"

"No."

"...Why?"

Because your father carved it and just looking at it hurts too much. Because I don't know whether to throw it away or hold it close the way I used to hold him.

I forced my voice to stay steady. "Just leave it there for now, okay?"

Auren nodded obediently, though his eyes lingered on the little wolf.

As I carried him back inside, neither of us noticed the pair of eyes watching from the tree line.

Hidden beneath a dark hood, the stranger smiled.

"So..." a soft female voice whispered to herself. "They've found each other after all."

She slowly reached into her cloak and pulled out a bundle of old letters tied together with a faded blue ribbon. Letters that had never reached their destination.

Her smile widened. "What a shame..."

With one flick of her fingers, the ribbon caught fire.