Lucas looked at her for a few seconds longer than he realized. The woman's face looked exhausted, as if she had walked a long way to get here.
Silence settled over the gate.
At last, Lucas let out a quiet breath and stood up. His voice this time was no longer as sharp as before.
"Of course," he said briefly. He raised the stack of papers in his hand. "Come back tomorrow morning."
The widow's eyes widened. She froze for a fraction of a second, as if making sure she hadn't misheard. Then her expression changed—restrained joy mixed with relief, her eyes glistening.
"Thank you, Young Master… thank you so much…" she repeated, bowing deeply again and again.
A few of the people who had remained began to whisper. The tension that had been hanging in the air slowly dissolved. One by one, they dispersed, seedlings in hand, their steps light, as though the night itself felt warmer than usual.
Lucas handed the last stack of registration papers to Liona.
"That's it. Close the gate."
