Purple Iris Manor, in the northern outskirts of Bernia.
The firewood crackled in the hearth, its dancing flames bathing the entire sitting room in warm amber. Far from the burnt stench and chaos of the ruined port, the air here held the peaceful scents of old books, tea, and dry firewood.
Thud.
A soft impact came from the balcony as a blue glow faded. Aaron Ball appeared before the floor-to-ceiling windows, azure arcs jumping twice across his shoulders before dying out. He looked travel-worn, a little dust clinging to the hem of his black everyday clothes, but his blue eyes remained as sharp as ever, with only a trace of fatigue hidden deep within.
Almost at that same instant, a purple figure crashed into his arms.
"Boer...!"
Nico Robin's voice caught with a suppressed sob. Her arms locked around his waist so tightly they almost dug into his body. She buried her face in his chest, warm tears quickly soaking the front of his clothes as her shoulders trembled slightly.
Boer froze for a moment, then his expression softened. He wrapped one arm around her back and gently cupped her face with his other hand. His fingertips felt a slight chill against her damp cheeks.
"What's wrong?" His thumb gently brushed the tears from the corner of her eye, his voice low and soothing, as though comforting a frightened bird. "Why does my calm, collected archaeologist look like a lost child?"
Robin parted her lips as though she wanted to say something, but before she could speak, a hot, deep kiss stopped her words.
Boer lowered his head and kissed her. The kiss carried the weariness of travel, a resolve still steeped in gunsmoke, and a certain urgency at recovering something lost. His arms tightened, holding her firmly against him,