Seren didn't return the next day.
Or the next.
Or the next.
People whispered rumors—
She found a prince.
She left the village.
She eloped with a noble.
She angered a magical beast.
Elyon heard all of it.
He didn't believe any.
Every morning he sat on the stone bench outside the herb shop. Quiet. Still. Hands resting on his lap. He fixed the shop's broken sign, cleaned the front step, and protected Seren's mother from overly aggressive customers.
But mostly…
He waited.
The villagers noticed.
"Boy, she's not coming back."
"You're wasting your time."
"She rejected everyone. Don't be stubborn."
Elyon simply shook his head.
"I'm not waiting for someone who ran from me," he said softly. "I'm waiting for someone who's scared."
There was no anger in his voice.
No bitterness.
No disappointment.
Only hope.
Quiet, patient hope.
Because unlike everyone else, he didn't love Seren's beauty.
He loved the way she tried to hide her sadness.
He loved the gentle tremble in her voice when she thanked him.
He loved the effort she put into avoiding hurting others.
He loved her kindness, her softness, her quiet strength.
He loved her.
And he would wait—
A day.
A month.
A lifetime.
Because love, to him, wasn't something you demanded.
It was something you protected.
Even from afar