Vivian.
Sunset did not arrive gently.
It did not fade slowly the way evening usually does.
It cut across the sky like a line drawn by an unseen hand — light on one side, shadow on the other.
The Northern Estate seemed to hold its breath as the last gold light slipped away from the high terraces. Wind moved across the stone like a whisper that refused to speak clearly.
The trial had begun.
No announcement was made.
No bell rang.
No voice declared anything.
Tradition did not need sound.
It needed obedience.
Two attendants came for me.
They bowed with respect, but they did not speak. Their silence was not empty. It felt intentional, like words themselves were forbidden inside this moment.
Sebastian stood beside me in the outer courtyard.
For a moment… time slowed.
We both understood what separation meant.
Not distance alone.
Uncertainty.
No message.
No reassurance.
No promise of reunion.
Only endurance.
