Upon receiving Zayden’s message, Soren had already arranged for a carriage to be sent, though the weather made travelling difficult.

"Sir, the carriage is ready," the coachman said, bowing in front of Zayden.

Both master and servant were dressed in heavy jackets, mufflers wrapped snugly around their necks, slightly covering their mouths. They stood at the entrance of the inn, unwilling to stay inside any longer due to the owner’s talkative nature.

Ren had always despised people who spoke too much.

As for Zayden, he disliked anyone who uttered nonsense just to gain his attention.

"Shall we go?" the General asked, turning toward his servant with a bright smile.

Ren nodded, stepping forward to open the carriage door first—but Zayden’s hand suddenly caught his wrist, stopping him.

The servant blinked, tilting his head to the side in confusion, unsure of what his lord intended to do.

To his surprise, Zayden swung the carriage door open himself, then lifted Ren with unexpected ease, placing him inside as if he were a child in need of care.

Ren froze, momentarily speechless.

Is he still drunk?

Once seated, he glanced away, pretending to adjust his muffler as the General climbed in after him. Despite the spacious carriage, Zayden sat right beside him—close enough that their shoulders brushed lightly.

Ren stiffened, lowering his gaze. He could feel the warmth radiating from the man next to him even through their thick layers of winter clothing.

The carriage creaked forward, wheels crunching against the frozen ground. Inside, the air was warmer but heavy—filled with the faint scent of musk and orange blossoms, and the soft rustle of their coats brushing together.

Ren finally turned toward the man beside him.

"...Why did you do that?" he asked softly.

Zayden blinked, tilting his head slightly.

"Do what?" He asked, as if clueless about what Ren was saying.

"Lifting me like that," Ren replied, his tone calm but edged with disbelief. He nervously fidgeted with his hands, locking gaze with the General. "You startled me."

A small, unapologetic grin tugged at the corner of Zayden’s lips.

"I wanted to take care of you," he said simply.

Ren’s brows furrowed.

"Oh? Is it... Because you think I’ll be hurt—like your other friends?" The words slipped out before he could stop them.

Silence fell.

Zayden’s smile faded. His expression darkened, shadows falling over his eyes as he turned his gaze toward the window. For a moment, the only sound filling the air was the rhythmic clatter of hooves against snow outside.

After a few seconds, he gave a quiet, forced laugh that didn’t reach his eyes, turning toward Ren once again.

"Wait... are you really using what I told you against me?" His tone was sharp. As if holding thousands of blades under each syllable he pronounced.

Ren’s breath hitched.

"N-No, I am truly sorry, My Lord. It just slipped my mouth... I was not trying to hurt you..." His voice trembled slightly as he lowered his gaze to Zayden’s boots, still dusted with snow.

He didn’t mean to poke where it stung the most. He simply didn’t know how to have a conversation with a friend—much less one who had shared something so deeply personal.

He never opened up to anyone, and no one ever did to him. Words like comfort or reassurance didn’t come easily; he wasn’t even sure what they should sound like.

So he stayed silent, his gaze flickering toward the window. The scenery passed in a blur of white and large buildings he barely noticed, yet his chest felt heavier than before.

Zayden exhaled quietly beside him, the sound breaking through the silence.

"You know," he said finally, his voice calm, "I’m not angry."

Ren blinked, startled, turning slightly toward him.

"I just..." Zayden hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don’t... remember their faces even. It’s been so, so long. But I understand that you didn’t mean to hurt me by saying this."

Ren’s shoulders relaxed—barely, but enough for Zayden to notice.

"Next time," Zayden continued, his tone softer, almost teasing, "if you want to make me mad, try calling me ’old man’ instead. After all, I am almost three hundred years old," he chuckled.

A quiet snort escaped Ren before he could stop himself. It wasn’t quite laughter, but it was close.

Zayden’s lips curved faintly, his earlier tension easing.

Fuck. Only a smile, and I’m not even mad at him for saying that. Zayden, you’re done for.

He snorted inwardly.

***

The ride was unexpectedly short. The roads had been cleared by snow cleaners who excelled in fire magic, making it easier for them to melt the snow wherever needed.

When they arrived at the main palace, Zayden stepped outside and opened the door for Ren.

Just then, as if waiting for them, a familiar voice called out,

"Papa! Dad!"

Stepping into the snow that nearly reached their ankles, both turned toward the sound of their son’s voice.

Wrapped in an oversized jacket, Eiran ran toward his parents.

"Why did you take so long to come back? I was waiting!" he huffed, folding his arms with a pout.

"My, my, are you a child?" Zayden grinned, ruffling the boy’s hair.

Eiran quickly pushed his dad’s hand away and hid behind Ren.

"Papa! Dad is ruining my hair again!"

Ren chuckled softly, not deliberately but naturally.

"You both—father and son—behave the same way."

They exchanged a glance, surprised.

Did Ren just acknowledge them as father and son? Usually, he would get upset whenever Zayden called Eiran their son. Well, it was only once before—but this... This was different.

Zayden’s lips parted in disbelief before curving into a slow, genuine smile.

"Did you hear that, Eiran? Papa finally—"

"Do not make it weird," Ren cut him off, a faint red tint brushing his cheeks as he gently brushed snow off Eiran’s jacket. "You are both making a scene."

Zayden laughed, drawing curious looks from nearby guards.

Eiran beamed, bouncing happily between them, wrapping his arms around their arms.

"Papa and Dad are back!" he declared proudly, hugging Ren’s leg. Although it was special, he didn’t want to talk about it. He still had to tell Ren that he knew the truth and learn about his real dad.

Ren sighed, pretending to look exasperated, though the corners of his lips betrayed him.

"You are impossible, both of you."

Zayden leaned closer, voice low enough that only Ren could hear.

"You know... that’s a progress." 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

Ren turned to glare at him. "You take everything as progress, My Lord."

"Because it is," Zayden said simply, smiling. "Step by step, right?"

Ren didn’t think much of it.

He is probably talking about becoming closer as friends, right?

Because there was nothing else he could have meant.