Damian reached the drawing room with Eilika and Sylvian trailing behind him.

Henry rose to his feet the moment they entered, offering a low, respectful bow to the Duke. The usual bitterness that clouded his features was gone, replaced by a visible humbleness in his gaze.

"Please, stay seated," Damian said. He turned his head slightly toward those behind him. "I would like to have a private moment with Lord Henry."

Eilika and Sylvian exchanged a brief, meaningful look before stepping back. They walked away together, the sound of their footsteps fading down the corridor as they both hoped the Duke would finally clear the air with his father-in-law, and that the long-standing resentment between the two men might finally reach its end.

Damian dismissed the servants as they finished placing the assortments on the table, then personally served the tea to Henry.

"Please, have your tea," he stated.

Henry nodded and lifted the cup with slightly unsteady fingers. He took a few slow sips before resting it back onto the saucer.

"How have you been, Your Grace?" Henry’s hands remained clasped on his legs, his eyes blinking in visible unease. "I saw the wedding preparations outside."

Damian lowered his gaze, the weight of the letter in his study still heavy on his mind, though his voice remained steady. "I’m sorry," he apologized. "But I needed to give this wedding to my wife. She sacrificed everything to bring happiness back to my son, who has been gloomy for far too many years."

Henry looked at Damian, his expression softened by a grief that no longer felt like an accusation.

"You do not need to apologize to me for seeking light in the darkness, Your Grace. It has been hard for you, hasn’t it? And I failed you as a man who always called you my son. My own grief never wanted to see the pain you’ve undergone with Liliana’s loss."

"My sorrow was nothing compared to a father’s grief. I made many promises to you when I asked for her hand," Damian stated with a conflicted gaze. "But why did you suddenly feel the urge to see me? I sent letter after letter, yet you never responded."

Henry let out a deep, weary sigh. "Your Grace, I felt I needed to give you my blessing. That is why I am here."

He kept his silence regarding Eilika. He couldn’t reveal how she had reached out and shifted his perspective, nor how she had asked him to keep her intervention a secret from Damian.

For years, Henry had placed his own mourning above all else, failing to see that a husband and a son were also suffering.

He had punished them both with his relentless gloom, especially Damian, who had been left to walk through the nightmare of Liliana’s loss alone.

"I was blind," Henry added softly, looking Damian in the eye. "I allowed my pain to become a cage for everyone I still have left. I am not here to dwell on the past today, but to ensure your future has my support."

Henry’s gaze then softened. "What happened to Liliana was not your fault. I am sorry for blaming you all these years when I was very well aware how much you tried to save her."

Damian felt a sense of relief which he had been searching for years. Henry was an upright man, and he never once wanted Damian’s bad until things went odd between them.

But what hurt Damian most was the shifting truth about Liliana. He still felt the desperate urge to gather more evidence, a part of him clinging to the hope that he hadn’t been betrayed.

As he looked at the man across from him, he wondered if Henry had ever been aware of his daughter’s secrets.

Trust had become a fickle, fragile thing.

"Your Grace, I cannot bear the thought of how I treated Roman. I refused to even hold him when he was so tiny. If it is possible, please forgive me for that as well."

Fumbling through his pocket, Henry pulled out a folded silk handkerchief and carefully unwrapped it to reveal a tiny silver pendant.

"I had this made when Liliana first announced her pregnancy," Henry stated, his voice trembling slightly as he held it out. "I would like you to give it to Roman. Tie it around his wrist; it is meant to protect him from the evil eye."

Damian stared at the silver glinting in the light. It was a grandfather’s love, offered just as Damian’s world was beginning to crumble.

He reached out and took the pendant. "I will make sure to tie it around Roman’s wrist myself. But why don’t you see him now? He is just in the other wing."

Henry shook his head, a look of profound regret crossing his face. "What good would that do? I have been absent for nearly five years of his life. If I suddenly appear before the boy now, his mind will only be filled with questions that I am not prepared to answer."

"I used to tell him stories about you, Father. Roman is indeed a curious child, but he is also a kind one. He will be nothing but happy to see you," Damian asserted.

Before Henry could protest further, Damian reached for the bell on the side table, summoning a servant to bring the young master to the drawing room.

He wanted this bridge mended, even as the foundations of his own memory were beginning to shake.

Some time later, Roman appeared in the drawing room. He walked straight to his father, who had already risen to his feet to greet him.

"Roman, do you remember the Grandpa I used to tell you about?" Damian asked, resting a hand on his son’s shoulder.

"Yes, Father. My grandpa who was away for business," Roman replied, his eyes wide with curiosity.

"True. And he has finally returned to see you," Damian stated, gesturing toward Henry, who had also left his seat. "Greet your grandfather properly."

Roman stepped forward and bowed with a practiced humbleness, his small frame showing the poise of his lineage.

Henry’s eyes brimmed with tears as he looked at the boy. Up close, the resemblance to his daughter was undeniable, the shape of the eyes, and the curve of the smile.

"Roman," he whispered. He walked to the boy, sank to his knees, and pulled his grandson into a warm, trembling embrace.