By the time Karl finished handling official business and returned to the castle beneath the dusk, the main hall was already filled with the aroma of food. A clean linen tablecloth covered the long table, and three sets of silver cutlery gleamed softly in the candlelight.
Charlotte and Lady Isabella were already seated, while Klein had been settled in a high chair padded with thick, soft cushions, right beside Charlotte.
The little one wore a clean white cotton romper, his pale golden hair still slightly damp—he had clearly just been wiped down. His large eyes, blue and clear as the sky on a bright autumn day, were wide open as he curiously studied the figure entering through the doorway—his father.
The moment Karl stepped into that quiet, warm pool of light, his heart softened of its own accord, though a deeper tension rose within him as well.
He took off his coat, still carrying the chill from outside, and set it on the rack. Then he walked to the head of the table and sat down, giving Lady Isabella a slight nod. "My lady." His gaze then shifted to Charlotte, and his voice unconsciously softened. "Charlotte."
Lady Isabella merely gave a cold "Mm." Charlotte looked up and nodded at him, her face still calm and unreadable. Yet when her gaze touched him, it seemed just a fraction gentler than it had been beside the carriage that afternoon. "You're back. Sit."
The maids began serving the dishes without a sound, and dinner commenced in an almost stagnant silence.
There was only the faint clink of knives and forks against porcelain, the soft sound of spoons stirring thick soup, and Klein's occasional babbling. With his chubby little hands, he smacked the tray of his high chair, his large eyes drifting from his