After Ariana had cried herself to sleep in his arms, Seraph gently lay her on the bed in the room, carefully adjusting her position so she would be comfortable. He pulled the blanket over her frail body, making sure it covered her shoulders properly, his movements slow and deliberate, as if afraid even the slightest disturbance would wake her. For a brief moment, his hand lingered near her cheek, his gaze softening faintly before the emotion was quickly suppressed.
Then he turned to the others who were looking at him with compassionate expressions. The room was quiet, heavy with unspoken emotions. The faint sound of Ariana's breathing filled the silence, steady but fragile.
Seraph forced a smile.
"I can understand what you all feel. Although foreign, I appreciate it. Still, I'll inform you that I've moved on, with nothing but her memory in my heart."
His voice was calm, almost too calm—like a still lake hiding a violent storm beneath.
