Derek dared not move, savoring the tender moment.
Soon, the child's hand retreated, and the sound of little footsteps headed toward Tabitha.
"Hungry?" Tabitha's voice was soft and gentle. "Alright, get the ingredients, and I'll make you candied hawthorn."
The bells jingled merrily as Hedwig ran off.
Suddenly, Derek sensed something near him—not human, but the sniff of an animal.
His heart raced. Was it a wild beast?
"Don't be afraid," Tabitha said. "It's just a fawn."
"Are there deer here?"
"Of course. The mountain spring attracts many animals."
"Any predators?"
Tabitha's mind flickered with a memory. "There used to be, but not anymore."
Ever since the leopard that had once protected her died, all the predators had fled into the deep mountains, never to return.
Derek, unaware of this, simply marveled at the magic of the moment—animals seemed to sense Tabitha's aura. Even the timid fawn nuzzled his fingers.
The sound of bells drew near again. Tabitha had already prepared the sugar syrup.
The sweet aroma reached Derek's nose as Hedwig placed the first skewer of candied hawthorn in his hand.
"For me?" he asked softly.
The bells jingled in affirmation.
Derek found the child's head and gently ruffled her hair. "Thank you, sweetie."
Hedwig patted his hand urgently. When he didn't eat immediately, she guided his hand to his mouth.
Blind and muted, the two communicated through gestures with unexpected harmony.
Tabitha watched and finally spoke. "Hedwig wants you to eat. It's fresh and still warm."
"Can I eat this now?"
"A couple won't hurt."
Derek bit into a hawthorn berry. The sweet and sour burst on his tongue, flooding his senses with memory—the year before his mission, he'd asked Tabitha what gift she wanted. She'd tilted her head and said, "The first hawthorn of autumn."
He'd teased her nose, promising to bring it back. When he returned, he'd handed her a pouch of fresh berries.
She'd tied on an apron and declared she'd make candied hawthorn, only to turn the kitchen into a disaster zone: the sugar syrup burned black and bitter, the berries coated in charred sugar. She'd stood there, disheartened, but he'd laughed and bitten into one. "It's sweet," he'd said.
Now, as Tabitha watched Derek eat the candied hawthorn, past and present intertwined—the curve of his brow was exactly as she remembered.
Derek turned toward her, though the bandages over his eyes made sight impossible. A inexplicable panic welled up in him.
Tabitha gathered the skewers into a basket. "I'm taking some to Grandma. Will you stay with him?" she asked Hedwig.
Hedwig nodded.
After Tabitha left, Hedwig sat beside Derek, petting the fawn's head. Every now and then, the fawn would nudge Derek with its body. He could sense Hedwig and the animal playing around him.
He should have felt warmth, but a question suddenly struck him—there were no hawthorn trees in this area. Where had Tabitha gotten the berries?
There was only one possibility—they were brought in from outside.
"Jasper," Derek thought.
Did Tabitha share her candied hawthorn with Jasper?
Over the years, who knew how their relationship had evolved?
In the thousand nights he'd been absent, had another man filled the void beside Tabitha?
Dread filled Derek's heart.
As if sensing his unrest, Hedwig suddenly grasped his hand and traced a few characters on his palm, "What's wrong?"
Derek couldn't ask directly, so he said, "Hedwig, I'm a bit cooped up here. Could you take me for a walk?"
Hedwig glanced at the empty medicine bowl. Considering that moderate movement might be beneficial, she nodded and took his hand, guiding him forward.
Derek never imagined his first "walk" with his daughter would be like this.
The small hand clutched his tightly, giving him an unprecedented sense of security.
He held it gently, careful not to squeeze too hard.
In this moment, he realized power and status meant nothing. This tiny hand was his whole world.
"Is the sun setting now?" he asked.
Hedwig shook her wrist bells in a soothing rhythm, as if to say "yes."
"Where's your mom?" he asked again. "My eyes suddenly hurt terribly."
Hedwig led him in Tabitha's direction without hesitation.
The mountain path was rugged. Derek walked slowly, but his heart burned with urgency—any man would be frantic to hear his wife might have moved on with someone else.
Before they reached their destination, his keen hearing caught a male voice, "Tabitha, after all this time, do you miss me?"
The voice was unfamiliar yet stirred Derek's heart.
It wasn't Lucian—so who could it be?
Derek's mind flashed to one person—Jasper.
When they'd first met, Jasper's voice had been high-pitched and youthful. Now, after years, he must have matured into a steady man. This person was far more formidable than Lucian.
Derek's heart pounded as he strained to hear Tabitha's response.
"You're such a grown-up, yet still so clingy," Tabitha's tone was warm and patient.