For several long heartbeats, no one moved.
It was as if the world itself had forgotten how to breathe.
Every eye in the courtyard was locked on the same impossible image, yet no one trusted their vision enough to accept it.
Knights, guards, nobles, attendants, even the shadows cast by the towering pillars seemed frozen in place, all of them staring at the same scene from slightly different angles, trying to make sense of what they were seeing.
Someone whispered, very softly, "Who… who is holding who?"
Another voice followed, shaky and disbelieving. "That's… that's Young Master Vance, right?"
"No," someone else said, blinking hard and rubbing their eyes. "That can't be right."
Another one rubbed his eyes. "Please tell me I am dreaming!"
All at the same time, they turned to again to make sure they are not mistaking hallucinating everything.
Cain stood there, one arm raised, his palm wrapped around Vance's head as if it belonged there.
