The garden was quiet.
Not empty—just still in a way that felt intentional. The faint rustle of leaves shifted gently with the breeze, sunlight filtering through the trees and casting soft patterns across the grass.
It was calm.
Peaceful.
A kind of quiet that didn't feel heavy.
Leah exhaled softly as she settled back, her body relaxing as she leaned against Izana.
She sat between his legs, her back resting comfortably against his chest, his arms loosely wrapped around her waist. One of his hands rested over hers, fingers lazily intertwined as if neither of them had any intention of moving anytime soon.
For once—
There was nothing urgent waiting for them.
No tension.
No interruptions.
Just this.
"It's quiet today," Leah murmured, her voice soft against the stillness.
Behind her, Izana didn't move much.
"…Good."
Leah smiled faintly.
Of course that would be his answer.
She tilted her head back just slightly, her shoulder brushing against his chest as she shifted to get more comfortable.
His chin lowered, resting lightly against her shoulder without hesitation.
The contact was natural.
Easy.
Like they had done this a hundred times before.
Maybe they had.
Or maybe it just felt like they had.
Leah's fingers traced absent patterns over his hand, her gaze drifting across the garden.
"…Can I ask you something?" she said after a moment.
A small pause.
Then—
"Yes."
She hesitated briefly, though not because she didn't want to ask.
Just… choosing how.
Then, lightly—
"What would you want?"
He didn't ask her to clarify.
Didn't pretend not to understand.
He knew.
There was only the slightest pause before he answered.
"A girl."
Leah blinked.
Then turned her head just slightly, enough to glance back at him.
"That was fast."
"…You asked."
She huffed a quiet laugh.
"I did."
Her gaze softened again as she looked ahead.
"…I think I'd want a boy."
There was a brief silence.
Then—
"No."
Leah frowned slightly.
"No?"
"No," he repeated calmly.
Leah turned her head more this time, narrowing her eyes just slightly.
"And why not?"
"Because," he said simply, "I already chose."
Leah stared at him for a second.
Then laughed.
Soft.
Warm.
"You don't get to just decide that."
"I already did."
She shook her head, though the smile didn't leave her face.
"You're impossible."
"And yet—."
"Yes," she cut in quickly, still smiling, "I'm still here."
His arms tightened just slightly around her.
Not enough to restrain.
Just enough to hold.
The laughter faded into something quieter.
More thoughtful.
Leah's fingers slowed against his hand.
"…Do you think we'd be good at it?" she asked after a moment.
This time—
Izana didn't answer immediately.
There was a pause.
Not long.
But noticeable.
Leah felt it.
Waited.
Behind her, his grip shifted slightly, his thumb brushing once against her hand before stilling again.
"…I would learn," he said finally.
Leah's chest tightened slightly.
Not painfully.
But enough for her to feel it.
She leaned back into him a little more, her head resting lightly against his shoulder as she looked ahead again.
That answer…
It wasn't perfect.
It wasn't overly confident.
But it was honest.
And somehow—
That meant more.
"I think you'd be good at it," she murmured quietly.
He didn't respond.
But his arm tightened just slightly again.
—
From a distance—
They weren't alone.
Standing just beyond the edge of the garden, partially obscured by the trees, Dante stood still, his gaze fixed quietly on the scene before him.
Beside him, Elias followed his line of sight.
They didn't speak at first.
They didn't need to.
What they were seeing—
Wasn't something either of them had seen often.
Izana.
Relaxed.
Unarmored.
Leah leaning into him without hesitation.
No distance.
No tension.
Just… calm.
Elias shifted slightly, his expression thoughtful.
"…He looks different," he said quietly.
Dante didn't look away.
"…He is."
There was no judgment in his voice.
No surprise.
Just acknowledgment.
Elias nodded slowly.
"…It's good."
Dante remained silent for a moment longer.
Then—
"Yes," he said.
And that was enough.
Neither of them lingered after that.
They turned and walked away, leaving the quiet of the garden undisturbed.
—
The day passed slowly.
Peacefully.
And by the time night settled over the mansion, everything had grown quiet once more.
The room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of the moonlight slipping through the curtains.
Leah lay beside Izana, the blankets pulled loosely over them.
He was asleep.
She could tell by the steady rhythm of his breathing, the way his body had relaxed completely against the mattress.
But she—
Was awake.
Her gaze rested on the ceiling, unfocused, her thoughts drifting slowly from one to another.
The garden.
His answer.
I would learn.
Her chest tightened slightly again.
Her hand moved without thinking, resting lightly against her stomach beneath the blanket.
Still.
Warm.
Quiet.
"…What if…" she whispered softly, the words barely audible even to herself.
She didn't finish the thought.
Didn't need to.
It lingered anyway.
Unspoken.
But present.
Her fingers curled slightly against the fabric as her gaze softened.
What if it happens again…?
The thought came quietly.
Carefully.
But it stayed.
Her breathing slowed, uneven for just a moment before she steadied it again.
She didn't want to wake him.
Didn't want to disturb the quiet.
But the thought didn't leave.
Didn't fade.
It lingered just beneath the surface, pulling at something deeper inside her.
Then—
A shift.
Subtle.
But immediate.
Izana moved beside her.
Not fully awake.
Not consciously.
But enough.
His arm slid around her instinctively, pulling her closer against him, his body turning slightly toward hers as if drawn there without thought.
Leah froze for just a second.
Then softened.
Her breath easing as she let herself relax into him.
"…Iz?" she whispered.
His brows furrowed faintly, his breathing shifting just slightly.
"…Li…" he murmured.
Half-asleep.
Barely aware.
But there.
Leah's chest tightened again—but this time, not from fear.
"I'm here," she whispered softly.
His arm tightened slightly around her.
Not forceful.
Just enough.
"…Stay…"
The word was quiet.
Broken.
But clear.
Leah closed her eyes briefly, her hand moving from her stomach to rest lightly over his arm instead.
"I'm not going anywhere," she murmured.
His breathing steadied again.
Evened out.
And slowly—
He drifted deeper back into sleep.
But he didn't let go.
And this time—
Leah didn't feel alone in the thought that had been lingering just moments before.
It was still there.
The uncertainty.
The quiet fear.
But it didn't feel as heavy anymore.
Because he was here.
Because she wasn't facing it alone.
Leah shifted slightly closer into him, her head resting lightly against his chest as she listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
And this time—
As her eyes finally began to close—
She let herself hold onto something else, too.
Not just the fear.
But the hope.
Because maybe—
Just maybe—
This time would be different.