Marian watched them closely.
William's face was quiet, calm too calm. He had been laughing earlier, bright and carefree, but now… there was something off. Something hollow behind the smile.
Still, she didn't push it.
"Well, let's get inside and clean you up," she said gently. "You must be tired from catching that wild boar. Though honestly, you didn't have to—we've got plenty of meat."
Daemon gave a polite smile. "My father taught me something important: always bring a gift for the host."
She chuckled, lifting the bag carefully. "This one's very heavy. You were raised right. You're such a lovely man."
"Thank you, miss. Should I help you put it in the kitchen?"
"Oh, no, no. You're our guest. Relax. And thank you for the gift."
She carried the bag into the kitchen, the wood creaking beneath her steps.
Varian leaned close, lowering his voice.
"…Where did you really go?"
