The night air was thick with the scent of rain.
Lightning split across the sky, briefly illuminating the grand Imperial Crown Villa before plunging it back into shadows.
In the nursery, under the soft glow of a night lamp shaped like a tiny crown, a little boy sat curled up in his bed, wide awake.
His small hands gripped a weathered stuffed bear so tightly that its seams stretched at the edges. The bear's left ear was torn, the fabric worn thin from years of being hugged through storms of tears and nights filled with nightmares.
He pulled his knees to his chest and pressed his chin against them, his tiny chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.
Outside, the thunder rumbled like a sleeping giant.
His lips quivered as he whispered into the bear's threadbare ear.
"Papa's home again… but why does Mama still cry when she thinks I'm asleep?"
His voice was barely a breath against the storm, but to him, it echoed loud enough to drown his fragile heart.
He remembered the nights without Papa—the empty chair beside his bed, the untouched plate at the dinner table, the way Mama tried to smile but always ended up crying behind locked doors.
He wasn't supposed to know.
But he did.
He heard everything.
He saw everything.
And now… even though Papa was back, there was something heavy still hanging in the air. Something unspoken.
Slowly, he climbed out of bed, his tiny feet touching the cold marble floor. The chill made him shiver, but he didn't care.
He padded through the silent hallway, the long curtains swaying gently like ghostly figures in the dark.
At the end of the corridor, light spilled through the cracked door of the study.
He pressed his small body against the doorframe, peeking through.
Inside, his Mama sat on the couch, her shoulders trembling as she buried her face in her hands.
Papa stood by the window, one hand clenched into a tight fist against the glass, the other pressed against his heart like it physically hurt him to stand there.
The little boy's throat tightened.
He wanted to run to them, to tell them he was okay. That he was brave now.
That they didn't have to hurt anymore.
But his feet stayed frozen in place.
"Selina…" Papa's voice broke the silence, hoarse and raw. "I'm afraid… I'm afraid the past isn't finished with us."
Mama sobbed harder, her voice barely audible.
"I don't want to fight anymore, Damian… I'm so tired of losing everything I love…"
The little boy pressed his fists against his mouth to keep from crying out loud.
In that moment, he understood something he couldn't quite put into words—that even heroes like his Papa, even queens like his Mama… could break.
He turned and fled down the hallway, his tiny feet slipping against the cold marble as hot tears streamed down his cheeks.
He climbed back into bed, pulling the tattered bear close.
"It's my fault," he whispered, his voice cracking. "If I hadn't been taken, if I hadn't cried so much… maybe they wouldn't be hurting now…"
His little body shook with silent sobs until exhaustion finally pulled him into a restless sleep.
Outside, the storm raged on.
But just before dawn broke, the rain stopped.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, a thin sliver of sunlight crept through the clouds—warm, gentle, and full of hope.
this one will absolutely destroy readers' hearts—in the best, most addictive way. Shall we mark this as the official final bonus before moving on to promote Season 2? Or do you want a small, sweet closing epilogue to soften the heartbreak?