The entire mansion was bustling with activity. Servants hurried through the halls, making last-minute preparations—cleaning already spotless surfaces, arranging fresh flowers throughout the rooms, and ensuring everything was perfect. In the kitchens, chefs were busy putting the finishing touches on meals that were ready to be served.
At the front door, the main butler stood waiting for the carriage to arrive. He checked the time on his pocket watch. Unlike before, when he waited out of duty, this time he stood there out of curiosity—wondering how his employers would react to the new change.
The sound of Merlerault horses echoed as a carriage approached, its polished frame gleaming in the sunlight. The driver brought it to a smooth stop in front of the gate. The footman, seated beside him, quickly stood and stepped down to open the carriage door.
A man stepped out. Composed and commanding, he appeared to be around thirty-nine years old. He stood tall in a distinguished dark blue military uniform accented with gleaming gold. His neatly styled light-blonde hair framed a face marked by intelligent green eyes that spoke of experience. A peaked dark blue cap with a gold band and emblem sat squarely on his head, complementing the intricate gold braid on his shoulder boards and the medals and pins adorning his chest. A name tag on the left side read "Alexander Augustus." White-gloved hands held a pair of glasses, and beneath the gold-buttoned jacket, a crisp light blue shirt and darker tie completed the ensemble.
As soon as his feet touched the ground, he extended a hand toward the person behind him.
A woman followed—composed, dignified, and appearing around the same age. Her long, wavy light brown hair cascaded gently around her face. Behind delicate, round gold-rimmed glasses, her light-colored eyes held a thoughtful and discerning gaze. Her mature features reflected a life of experience, yet her presence radiated graceful strength. She wore a formal dark blue military-style uniform, nearly identical to the man's, adorned with ornate gold detailing, distinguished shoulder boards, and a proud collection of medals. Her name tag read "Evenline Augustus."
"My dear love, it seems we've reached our home," Alexander said as he accompanied his wife toward the gate. Evenline listened to the sweetness in her husband's voice and smiled warmly. A few moments later, they reached the mansion's gate. Just as they were about to step inside—
"Welcome home, Mother. Father," Soren said with a big smile as he walked toward the entrance.
Alexander's face lit up with surprise—so much so that not even seeing his entire country collapse would have shocked him more.
"Darling, am I dreaming? Or have I been hypnotized by those sneaky mind-bending bastards?" Evenline said, her eyes flicking back and forth between her son in front of her and her equally stunned husband.
Soren thought, I know they're Zephyr's parents, but I can't help feeling bad for them. According to what Sophie told me, Zephyr was never kind to them—such a rude guy. I just... want them to feel good, I guess. Maybe it's my way of coping with the fact that my own parents loved me, and I'll never see them again. I don't even know what I'm thinking anymore.
Soren took a step forward.
"It's actually me, Mom. Dad. You can confirm it with an anti-Vieler artifact," he said nervously. "I just… realized it's time for me to grow up, to finally accept the past and move on."
What the hell am I saying? This wasn't part of the plan! I'm going to make them suspicious… Ugh, dumb me. Ahhhhhh, Soren thought, internally panicking.
There was a moment of silence. The stillness only heightened Soren's anxiety as he tried his best to maintain his composure and keep his expression steady.
"Zephyr… my baby," Evenline whispered, tears welling up in her eyes.
What should I do? Should I go forward and hug her? Or should I just stand here and do nothing? Or—or— Soren panicked inwardly.
But before he could decide, Evenline suddenly pulled him into a warm embrace. Soren was startled, frozen in place as she held him tightly.
She held him as if afraid he might disappear again, her arms trembling slightly. Soren remained still, unsure of what to do, his mind racing.
"I'm sorry, my baby… You took such a big step, and I wasn't there for you. I really failed as a mother," Evenline whispered, her voice shaking with emotion.
Something inside him overwhelmed Soren. What he had thought of as a simple act of kindness toward Zephyr's parents… slowly melted away as he surrendered to Evenline's embrace. He missed his own mother—her warmth, her teasing, her quiet care. He had told himself this wouldn't affect him. After all, he wasn't the real Zephyr, just a replacement.
"I'm sorry, Mother. I'm sorry for everything—for not being a good son, for pushing you away, for not becoming someone you could be proud of," Soren whispered. His words were spoken to Evenline, but in his heart, he was addressing the mother he would never see again.
Tears welled up in his eyes as he hugged Evenline tightly—his new mother now. He clung to her, crying like a child who had held it in for far too long.
Alexander, who had quietly moved closer during their intimate moment, was also overwhelmed. As a seasoned commander, he had witnessed countless devastating scenes, yet never shed a tear. But when it came to his son and wife, his vulnerable side surfaced. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he quickly tried to hide them beneath the brim of his cap.
"Honey, won't you hug him too?" Evenline asked gently.
Alexander hesitated for a moment, but then gave his wife and son a warm embrace.
Soren thought about how he had never hugged his original father after he turned ten. Back then, he believed it was childish and unmanly—he even thought it was strange how Emma would hug their father. Now, as Soren, he realized he might never see his father again. What hurt him the most was the painful truth that his father had always been waiting for a warm embrace from him, hoping he would open up and share his problems.