Hilda startled slightly, turning toward the sound.

"I pray for that too."

Lady Elise Goldheart stood at the threshold, hands clasped before her, her silken gown glimmering faintly in the warm lamplight. The faintest trace of amusement softened her composed expression.

"My Lady—!" Hilda immediately bowed, a touch of embarrassment in her tone. "I didn't sense you there."

Elise smiled — a gentle, knowing thing that somehow made Hilda feel both forgiven and mildly scolded. "Few do, Miss Hilda. It's a useful habit in a household like ours."

Her gaze drifted toward the sleeping child. The faintest tenderness brightened her eyes. "He looks so peaceful like this. One would never imagine the chaos he leaves in his wake."

Hilda chuckled quietly, lowering her voice. "Indeed, my Lady. I believe the Saints send him trouble the way rain finds mountains."

Elise let out a light, musical laugh. "Or perhaps he is the storm."

The two women shared a rare moment of understanding — that unspoken bond forged by caring for the same troublesome boy.

Elise stepped forward, her movements so graceful that the air itself seemed to hush. She brushed her fingers over Raiden's hair, a mother's touch that lingered just long enough to stir him before she withdrew.

"How was the city?" she asked softly, eyes still fixed on her son.

Hilda hesitated for half a beat, careful with her words. "Lively, as always. The markets are thriving. The merchant guild had a new shipment of frostleaf — I secured a few bundles."

Elise's lips curved slightly. "And Raiden?"

Hilda smiled ruefully. "Full of questions. Full of energy. Full of... creative ideas."

Elise chuckled under her breath. "A polite way of saying 'trouble,' I suppose."

"Trouble that somehow manages to end in applause," Hilda admitted, shaking her head. "Though not without a few gray hairs gained along the way."

The Lady of Goldheart's laughter was quiet but warm. "Thank you, Miss Hilda. For enduring him — and for keeping him safe."

"It's my duty, my Lady," Hilda replied sincerely. "And... truth be told, it's difficult to stay angry with him for long."

Elise's gaze softened again, her tone dropping to a whisper as she said, "He's his father's son."

There was pride in her voice, but also that faint shadow of worry — the kind every mother carries for a child too curious for their own good.

The room fell quiet once more. For a moment, it was perfect — the image of peace: a sleeping child, a healer's care, and a mother's quiet love.

The serenity shattered with the tolling of a distant bell.

Dong!

Dong!

Dong!

A deep, resonant sound rolled through the halls of the estate — once, twice, then a steady rhythm that filled the very air with vibration.

Hilda looked up immediately, her instincts tensing before recognition dawned.

Elise's expression changed too — from surprise to dawning realization, then to unmistakable joy.

The ceremonial bell.

It only rang for one reason.

The Lord of Goldheart had returned.

Moments later came the distant stir of activity — hurried footsteps echoing in the corridors, voices overlapping, the rush of servants preparing for their master's arrival. The once-still air was now alive with anticipation.

Elise's composure remained, but her eyes sparkled. "He's back…" she murmured, almost to herself.

Hilda bowed slightly. "Welcome news, my Lady."

"Yes," Elise said with a quiet, affectionate smile. "He's been gone a little too long."

Then, before either woman could say another word — a faint rustle came from the bed.

Raiden's eyelids fluttered open.

He blinked once, confused. Then twice, as the echo of the bell reached his sleepy mind.

And then his system window flickered before him — faint and pale in the dim light.

[Reward Calculation: Complete — Pending Notification.]

For once, Raiden didn't care.

He sat up abruptly, hair a wild halo of gold, eyes bright with sudden energy.

"Father's back?!" he blurted.

Both women turned toward him — one startled, one amused.

Elise smiled at his wide-eyed excitement, warmth flooding her features. "Yes, my dear. Your father just returned."

That was all it took.

Raiden flung the blanket aside, hopping off the bed with renewed life. He stumbled over one shoe, grabbed the other, and shoved his foot into it mid-run.

"Raiden—!" Hilda's warning came too late.

"Wait at least until—"

The rest of her sentence vanished as the boy tore out of the room like a streak of lightning, the echo of his laughter trailing behind him.

Elise covered her mouth to hide her laughter, her shoulders shaking faintly. "Every time," she murmured.

Hilda sighed, rubbing her temple. "That child will be the death of me."

Elise gave her a knowing look. "And yet, you'd protect him with your life."

Hilda didn't deny it. "That, my Lady, I would."

Raiden's feet thundered through the corridors, past startled maids and guards who scrambled to step aside.

The golden banners that lined the walls rippled as he raced by, his small frame weaving through the maze of polished halls with the speed of pure joy.

Every step echoed like a heartbeat — quick, rhythmic, alive.

He darted around a corner, nearly colliding with a servant carrying folded linens, mumbled an apology without slowing down, and kept running.

His mind raced just as fast.

Forget the reward for now.

Leave the system first.

His father was home.

He remembered flashes — the stories, the commanding voice, the rare but powerful smile. To Raiden, Lord Goldheart wasn't just a father; he was the embodiment of strength and mystery — someone worth chasing, worth impressing.

The main corridor opened before him, revealing the towering double doors of the grand entrance. Through the windows above, the last streaks of sunlight glinted off polished armor and the unique carriage that had just come to a stop.

Guards lined the steps in perfect formation, their armor gleaming with the crest of the family.

Raiden's heart hammered.

He slowed only when he reached the top of the grand staircase, his small hands gripping the railing as he leaned forward eagerly.

Below, the great doors swung open, and through them stepped a tall figure clad in travel-worn finery — broad-shouldered, calm, commanding.

Even before the man spoke, Raiden's face broke into a grin.

"Father!"

His voice rang clear through the hall, high and bright and full of unrestrained happiness.

The man paused mid-step — then turned, eyes softening as he spotted the blur of golden hair at the top of the stairs.

And just like that, Raiden sprinted again, feet barely touching the ground as he rushed down the marble steps, laughter echoing through the grand hall.

"Forget the reward," he thought with a grin, breathless with joy. "Father's home!"

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