The Miyazaki Mansion always felt unnaturally still after sundown, cloaked in that curated silence only wealth and legacy could afford. As Wil's car pulled up to the front driveway, the lamps lining the path flickered. A suited steward was already waiting outside before the car even came to a complete stop, as if informed in advance.
"Williard-sama," the steward greeted, bowing low, his voice professional yet warm. "Please follow me. The young mistress is expecting you."
Wil nodded politely, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt as he followed the man through the polished halls. The air carried the faint scent of jasmine tea and old wood, dignified yet oddly comforting.
When he entered the living room, Kiyumi was the only one present. She sat with one leg crossed over the other, a silver tablet balanced on her knee, her expression focused but composed.
