The wind of late summer brushing into early spring slipped through the half-open window, warm and lazy, carrying with it the quiet hum of distant fields. It wrapped around Sion like a lullaby, coaxing him deeper into sleep. He had no intention of waking—not yet, not for anything.
Until the scent of freshly baked bread drifted through the house.
It was cruel, that smell.
Warm, rich, unmistakable. Butter melting into golden crust. The faint sweetness of honey glaze. It curled into every corner of the small house and reached him even beneath his blankets.
His stomach betrayed him first.
It growled sharply, loud enough to offend his dignity.
Sion's eyes opened immediately.
He stared at the ceiling for a moment, unimpressed.
"…Tch."
So much for sleeping in.
He had every intention of using oversleeping as a perfectly reasonable excuse for being late.
Today was the day he had to go see that man again.
He turned to his side, burying half his face into the pillow.Just the thought of it drained him.
Even before standing up, Sion already felt exhausted.
After a few more seconds of silent protest, he pushed himself upright and ran a hand through his hair. The scent of bread grew stronger the closer he stepped toward the kitchen.
Eiran was already there, sleeves rolled up, placing bread onto a plate.
"You finally woke up ,young master," Eiran said without turning around.
"You look more excited than I am," Sion said as he entered the kitchen and stretched his arms.
Eiran finally glanced at him. "I am actually expecting you to be awake before sunrise."
"I was," Sion replied smoothly. "In my dreams."
Eiran just shook his head , giving in.
"I was planning to use oversleeping as an excuse for being late," Sion continued lightly, taking a piece of bread. "But thanks to you, I woke up early."
"What are you talking about young master?" Eiran said casually. "It's nearly midmorning."
Sion chewed thoughtfully, unbothered.
"Ah," Eiran added pointedly, "Are you perhaps forgotten that you you still have the smallholding to check."
Sion paused mid-bite.
"…Ah."
It had almost slipped his mind.
At special day like this, the workers would usually be handling everything already.
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
"I suppose," he said calmly, "I still have a reason to be late."
He turned to leave.
"I've already fed the chickens," Eiran called after him. "And watered the eastern rows."
Sion didn't look back, but the corner of his mouth curved slightly. "Thanks."
Then he headed toward the smallholding.
By the time Sion finished tending the plants himself, the sun had already climbed high.
And then—
It began to descend.
He wiped the faint sheen of sweat from his neck and glanced at the sky.
It was already afternoon.
Well past noon.
Well past the time they were supposed to meet.
He dusted the soil from his hands, unhurried.
If anything, he moved even slower.
When he finally returned inside, Eiran was already prepared, cloak draped neatly over his arm.
But before either of them could step forward, the distant rumble of wheels broke the stillness.
Both turned.
A carriage stood not far from the gate.
Elegant.
Polished.
Unmistakably expensive.
Sion's expression did not change.
But his eyes narrowed slightly.
It can't be.
As if summoned by his thought, the carriage door opened.
Stepping down with deliberate elegance was the guild master himself—Silver Crest Merchant Guild's Guild Master, Cassian Solari.
Eiran inhaled sharply. "Oh no."
"There's no doubt the townfolk saw that carriage," Eiran muttered under his breath. "Another rumor will spread before sunset."
Sion didn't respond.
The man approached quickly.
" Master Cassian Solari," Sion greeted internally, recognizing him at once.
Before Sion could speak, Cassian reached for his hand.
He bowed slightly and pressed a kiss against Sion's knuckles.
"My," Cassian murmured smoothly, "you've grown even more beautiful since I last saw you."
Eiran stiffened visibly.
Sion, however just give a polite smile.
"What an honor," Sion replied, voice calm and refined. "For the Guild Master to visit my humble home."
Cassian lifted his head, eyes gleaming. "I had no choice."
"You were late."
There it was.The possessiveness and expectation in his tone.
"So," Cassian continued lightly, "I decided to come myself."
Sion tilted his head slightly.
"Then I must apologize," he said gently. "It seems I kept you waiting."
Cassian's gaze softened almost immediately at the apology.
Eiran watched the exchange carefully.
Sion stepped aside with effortless grace.
"Since you've come all this way," Sion added smoothly, "please allow me to welcome you properly."
Cassian's smile widened. "I would be delighted."
As they walked toward the house, Sion was acutely aware of the direction of the wind, the positioning of the carriage, and the faint silhouettes of townspeople pretending not to stare.