The soft light of dawn filtered through the thin curtains, painting the room with a quiet golden glow. Aurelian was the first to wake. His grey eyes blinked at the light, and for a moment he remained still, still wrapped in the warmth of the covers. Beside him, Lianzu’s breathing was steady and light.

  She was curled up against his chest, her long raven-bck hair scattered across the pillow like a veil of silk. Her face, rexed and almost childlike in sleep, made her even more beautiful. Slightly parted lips, long dark shes, and diaphanous skin that caught the golden morning light. Aurelian looked at her for a long time, with a silent tenderness that gripped his chest. He would have liked to stay there, watching her sleep, guarding that fragile stillness.

  But duty called.

  Gently, he brushed her shoulder. “Lianzu…” he murmured. “I have to get up. I’m going to work, but I’ll be back by lunchtime.”

  She stirred slightly, her eyes still clouded with sleep. “Mmmh… already awake?” she whispered, barely moving.

  “Already,” he said, brushing a lock of her hair.

  “Mmmh…” she mumbled again. “What delicious thing will you cook?”

  “I was just about to ask you: what do you want for lunch? And dinner?”

  “You decide… I trust you,” she said, sinking back into the pillow. Then added, “But something tasty, if you can.”

  “As you wish, my dy,” he murmured, kissing her forehead.

  He got up, washed his face with water from the jug, and changed into simple work clothes: a light tunic with a leather belt, sturdy boots, and a cloak for the coastal wind. Argaroth followed him to the door, then padded back toward the kitchen, already knowing that meat would appear there ter.

  Aurelian’s morning was busy. First, he helped old Gorran reinforce a wall that had colpsed overnight due to the sea's dampness. Then he stopped by Malenn the seamstress to fix the floorboards in her shop that had been creaking for days. Lastly, he repaired a wagon wheel for a farmer waiting outside the city walls.

  Everyone greeted him with respect, even affection. They offered him bread, news, a few smiles. No one cared that he was the st of the Var Ceshen—in fact, many hoped he would truly succeed in restoring honor and glory to his house. Sirentia needed dreams, and he was one of the few who still made them seem possible.

  Before heading home, he stopped at the port market. He bought fresh herbs, olives cured in salt, lemons and figs, and of course, fish: two freshly caught red mullets and a rge steak for Argaroth.

  When he returned home, the sun was high and the sea breeze slipped through the alleyways. Aurelian opened the door and found Lianzu in the kitchen, dressed in a light blue gown, her hair gathered in a loose braid. She had washed and smelled of soap. She was preparing a herbal tea with dry leaves and flowers in a small copper infuser.

  “Welcome back,” she said, with a calm smile.

  “I brought the loot,” he replied, setting the market sack on the table. “What are you making?”

  “A digestive infusion. I used to drink it often after meals in Zhuyin. It has lemon balm, lemon flowers, and a pinch of vender.”

  “Smells like home already,” he said, sincerely.

  He began cleaning the fish, adding aromatic herbs, a drizzle of oil, and lemon juice. He wrapped it in vine leaves and pced it over the fire to cook slowly on an iron grill. Lianzu prepared the cups and finished filtering the tea.

  As they worked together, she said, “The water for washing is almost gone. My fault.”

  “No problem. After lunch I’ll go fetch some from the Sen River.”

  “I’ll help. That way I earn my next shower.”

  “Deal,” Aurelian ughed.

  Argaroth watched them patiently, until Aurelian handed him his steak, which the wolf grabbed happily before curling up on the stone floor.

  They sat at the table. The fish was perfectly cooked, with a light crust and a tender heart, fragrant with herbs and the sea. The tea was delicate and aromatic, a new but pleasant taste. Lianzu complimented Aurelian, and he returned the praise with sincerity.

  After the meal, they cleared the table together, then prepared for their walk to the river. The early afternoon sun made the rooftops of Sirentia sparkle, and the road to the Sen awaited, filled with the scents of salt, damp earth, and summer wind.

  The sun was high, and the sky, clear, stretched above Sirentia like a great blue sail. Lianzu and Aurelian, after gathering the terracotta containers from the pantry—wide-bellied jars with narrow necks, perfect for keeping water fresh and clean—had loaded everything onto a small two-wheeled cart. Pulling it, proud and eager, was Argaroth. The scene was almost comical: a giant wolf seemingly enjoying his role as a horse, yet carrying himself with seriousness, as if he understood he was helping the family.

  The road to the Sen River wound through gentle grassy hills just outside the city walls. The journey was short, less than half an hour at a leisurely pace, and the path was lined with cultivated fields, olive trees, and wild shrubs. Here and there, an old cypress stood tall, like a sentinel of the ndscape.

  “So,” said Aurelian as the cart moved along with a light squeak of wheels, “we’ve cooked together, worked together, and now we’re fetching water. All that’s left is grape harvesting and undry.”

  Lianzu ughed. “You might discover I’m great at sewing and milking goats too.”

  “Then I’ll have to get you a goat.”

  “First a house with a full roof, I’d say.”

  “Details,” he replied with a smile. “I want a goat anyway.”

  Argaroth turned his head slightly, as if to check whether they were talking about him. Lianzu quickly scratched behind his ears, and the wolf wagged his tail.

  The Sen River appeared suddenly around a bend, wide and calm, nestled between grassy banks and small gnarled trees. The water was clear, with emerald green reflections, and flowed gently through that stretch of pin, murmuring softly. Water birds took flight at the cart’s arrival, and dragonflies with transparent wings danced above the surface.