Dearest Kaylin,

I've made it back to Aerenthal safely. The journey felt long, though not for the usual reasons. I hadn't realized how much I missed the smell of seawater until I returned. The air here is always heavy with it, especially near the docks. But, if I’m being honest, I think I miss the smell of fresh herbs and earth more. Which is really just to say that I miss you. Your cottage, your smile, your freckles. Even your noisy chickens that always seemed to announce their presence whenever I tried to sleep in. It’s strange how the quiet of the estate feels emptier without the sound of them in the background.

You’re ever in my thoughts. The days here feel longer when you’re not near, but knowing I’ll see you again keeps me grounded.

You may be surprised to hear this, but Aaron and I have struck an accord. It's true. He’ll leave us alone, for now at least. He’s given me the task of proving that I’m worthy of you—a task that I’ve been trying to accomplish every day since we met. I think he’s finally realizing how serious I am about you. Either that, or he's run out of excuses to punch me. Let’s hope it’s the first one.

I hope that you are doing well. Are the flowers in bloom? I often find myself thinking of the garden you keep by the cottage. I swear I could spend hours just watching you tend to the plants. There’s a peace in those moments I can’t quite find anywhere else.

Please write back to me soon. It’s strange how much a single letter from you can brighten my day.

Yours always,
Brycen Vardell

---

My Brycen,

Thank you for writing and letting me know you made it to your home safely. I miss you terribly. It feels strange, like there’s a weight in my chest that hasn’t lifted since you left, but reading your words eases it a little. At least now I know you’re well, and that helps.

I’m glad to hear you and my brother are getting along, or at the very least, not at each other's throats. I swear he’s not a bad person, though he has a peculiar way of showing he cares. I think he was just so used to protecting me that he never learned how to let anyone else in. It’s hard for him, I think. But I’m grateful that he’s beginning to see you for who you truly are.

The chickens miss you, I think. Or maybe that’s just me projecting. Fiora, in particular, seems restless. She laid an egg that she’s become fiercely protective of. I believe it may be fertilized, though I can’t be certain. I’ll give it time and see if we’re lucky enough to have a hatchling. Perhaps it’ll bring some new life into this quiet place while you’re away.

As for the gardens, they’re resting for the winter. The ground is cold, and only a few hardy greens still cling to life. I often find myself standing by the beds, imagining the blooms of spring to pass the time. I feel much the same, in truth- that without you, I’m in some kind of hibernation, unable to fully bloom. I’m going through the motions, but it feels... emptier. Some of my regulars have even commented that my eyes look sad. I try to hide it, but you know how difficult that is for me.

I hope that I get to see you again soon. You’re always in my thoughts. Stay safe in Aerenthal, and write to me again when you can. Your letters are the only thing that keeps the winter from feeling quite so cold.

Yours,
Kaylin Eilaro

---

Dearest Kaylin,

I can picture Fiora being a protective mama. It's only fitting, given how well she’s taken to her role in the coop. I hope that egg hatches soon, though I imagine the chick will have some of its mother’s stubbornness—hard to deal with, but rewarding in the end.

I miss you more than I can put into words. Life in Aerenthal feels... quieter, but not in a comforting way. The estate is empty without you. I never realized how much warmth you brought into my life until now. I think even Vincent is tired of seeing me sulk around.

The city itself is its usual bustling self, and yet, all I find myself doing is counting the days until I can see you again. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about anyone before. I keep thinking about the garden, the smell of the earth after rain, and the sound of your voice when you're lost in your work.

Work is as busy as you'd expect. We've had endless meetings about the border, strategies, and defenses. Sometimes I wonder how much longer this will go on, but then I remind myself that it's all in service to the kingdom- and to keeping people like you safe. Still, I can't help but wish for simpler days. Just you, me, and perhaps a few noisy chickens.

I'll be counting the moments until we can be together again. Write soon and tell me all about your days. I long to hear from you, even if it’s just about the chickens.

Yours always,
Bry

---

My Brycen,

I got your letter today, and it brought a smile to my face. It’s silly, but even just reading your words feels like you’re here with me again. The estate may feel empty to you, but you should see the cottage without you. It’s as if it’s gone quiet, waiting for your return. Even the chickens seem subdued.

Fiora is still fussing over her egg. I think you may be right- if it hatches, that chick will be as stubborn as its mother. I wonder if that’s how you felt, protecting me? I still think about it... how safe I felt with you, how you took care of me, even against my own brother.

I miss you terribly. The garden isn’t the same without you nearby to share it with, and neither am I, to be honest. I keep finding myself thinking about you, wondering what you’re doing, imagining what it would be like to be with you right now.

How are things at the estate? I can’t imagine it’s very fun being stuck there, but knowing you, you’re probably throwing yourself into your work. Don’t overwork yourself, alright?

Please write again soon. I miss you. I miss everything about you.

Yours,
Kaylin

---

Dearest Kaylin,

Your letter couldn’t have come at a better time. The past few days have been... long. I didn’t realize how much I’ve come to rely on our time together, even just to feel grounded. Everything here feels cold, calculated. The estate might be beautiful, but it’s nothing compared to the warmth I feel when I’m with you.

You asked about my work- nothing too exciting, I’m afraid. Meetings, reports, patrols, repeat. You know the drill. I’ve been trying to keep busy, but it’s hard when my mind keeps wandering back to you. To us. I keep thinking about your smile, your laugh, the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention. It’s those little things that keep me going.

I’m counting the days until I can come back and see you again. And yes, I’ll do my best not to overwork myself, though it’s easier said than done.

How’s the egg coming along? Do you think it will hatch soon? I hope I get to meet the little one when I visit again.

Please take care of yourself. You mean the world to me.

Yours,
Brycen

---

My Brycen,

I can picture you pacing around that grand estate of yours, trying to keep yourself busy. I wish I could be there to help you with your restlessness, but then again, maybe you’d drive me mad with it. (Though, I think I’d welcome the madness, if it meant being near you again.)

As for Fiora, she’s still sitting on the egg, but I think it won’t be much longer now. I keep checking on it, though she gives me the nastiest looks whenever I get too close. I’ll be sure to send word the moment it hatches.

The garden is doing well, though I’ve been missing your help with the heavier tasks. It’s funny- I used to love the solitude of tending to the plants, but now I find myself wishing I had someone to share it with. That someone being you, of course.

There’s something I’ve been wanting to say, but I’m not quite sure how to put it into words. I suppose it’s this: I never thought I’d feel this way, about anyone, much less an Alpha. After everything I’ve been through, I thought I’d closed that part of myself off for good. But with you... I feel like I’m finally learning what it means to open up. To trust. To let someone in.

I’ll stop before I get too sappy. But know this: I’m thinking of you. More than I should probably admit.

Yours,
Kaylin

---

Kaylin,

You’ll never have to apologize for being “sappy” with me. In fact, I’m starting to think I could get used to hearing you say those kinds of things. Every letter from you feels like a lifeline, and I’m starting to realize just how much I’ve come to depend on hearing from you. Funny, isn’t it? How someone who once thrived on his independence is now counting the days, the hours, until he can see you again.

There’s something I need to tell you, too. Maybe it’s the same thing you’re feeling, maybe not, but I can’t keep holding it back. I’ve been thinking about our time together, about how you’ve changed me- made me softer, more open. You’ve done something to me, Kaylin. In the best possible way. I never thought I’d find someone who makes me feel... whole. But you do.

I love you. It’s as simple as that. I love you, and I can’t wait to tell you in person.

I know I’ve been working long hours, and I’m sorry for that. But once things settle, I’ll come back. I promise. And when I do, I’ll make sure it’s worth the wait.

Until then, take care of yourself. Take care of Fiora and that egg. And know that you are in my heart, always.

Yours forever,
Brycen

---

Brycen counts the days.

At first, he’d been patient, knowing that Kaylin had a busy life and probably doesn’t have the same luxury of free time that he did when it comes to writing letters. After all, between tending to the gardens, the remedies, and the animals, Brycen knows how much work the cottage demands. He doesn’t mind waiting.

But when a week and a half passes with no reply, the first flickers of unease begin to creep in.

Maybe Kaylin is just busy, he reasons. Perhaps the letter is delayed in the post- there have been some recent disruptions with the courier lines, or so he’s heard. There is no reason to panic.

But by the end of the second week, that dread has bloomed into something larger, something colder. Every morning he waits, anticipating a letter that never comes. And each evening, as he retires to bed, that familiar ache in his chest grows heavier. Why hasn’t Kaylin written back?

Was it because of what he wrote?  Because he confessed his love? Or worse- is Kaylin hurt?

Brycen can't stop his thoughts from spiraling.

He replays their last exchange in his mind over and over. He had told Kaylin he loves them. He had poured his heart into the letter. And now, the silence feels like a void, swallowing up his hope.

Did he come on too strong? Had he pushed too far? Kaylin is sensitive, careful with their emotions. Had Brycen's confession scared them off? He doesn’t want to believe it, but the absence of a response is enough to plant seeds of doubt.

He has half a mind to mount Shadow and ride straight to Greystone to check on them, but his duties as a Paladin keep him tied to Aerenthal. Every spare moment, however, his thoughts drift back to Kaylin, to that small cottage, and the gnawing feeling that something is wrong.

As he sits at his desk one evening, staring at the blank page before him, he thinks about writing again. Just something short- maybe to check on them, to make sure they are alright.

But he hesitates.

What if they simply don’t want to respond? What if Kaylin had read his letter and decided that things have moved too fast, too intensely, and now they are unsure how to reply? Maybe this is their way of pulling away, of letting him down gently.

The thought makes his chest tighten.

Brycen sighs and rubbs a hand over his face, trying to shake off the tension. This isn’t like him- this waiting, this worrying. He's a Paladin, for gods’ sake. He's trained to handle intense pressure and life-or-death situations. But this... this silence from Kaylin is unlike anything he’s ever dealt with.

The uncertainty is eating him alive.

He thinks about asking Soren for advice. Soren has always been better at handling personal relationships than Brycen has, and if anyone would know how to navigate this situation, it's him. But Brycen hesitates again. He isn’t ready to admit that something might be wrong.

Not yet.

Instead, he stands up from his desk and crosses the room to the window, staring out at the twinkling lanterns of Aerenthal. Somewhere beyond the city, in the quiet hills near Greystone, Kaylin is out there. And whether it is fear, hesitation, or something worse keeping them from responding, Brycen knows he needs to give them time.

He will wait.

But how long can he wait before the silence drives him mad?

When Brycen returns home from a particularly difficult mission another week later, he's filthy with mud and blood and ready to soak into a nice bath.  He has all of Kaylin's letters with him- reading them and re-reading them part of the only thing that gets him through, even though the waiting is killing him. His fellow comrades joke about how he clearly has a girlfriend, and he would laugh but neither confirm nor deny their accusations. 

"Sir Vardell, a moment please," Vincent says as he enters his home. He groans, just wanting to get to the bath. 

"Yes, Vincent?" he says, trying to keep the weariness and annoyance from his voice. 

"A young woman showed up a few hours ago asking to see you. We've given her one of the guest rooms to stay in until you arrived." Brycen blinks. Is this some sort of setup by his father? He thought he made it clear that he isn't interested in any arranged marriages. 

"Do you think it's alright if I take a bath first? I doubt I should greet a young lady in this state."

"Certainly, sir, I agree whole-heartedly," Vincent agrees. "It's almost time for dinner, how about I have Isabella prepare something for the both of you?" 

"Uh, that sounds fine, I guess. Thank you, Vincent." He doesn't rush through his bath, not exactly in a hurry to meet this "young woman" that he's more and more sure is sent by his father. But he savors being clean after a day of grime, and dresses in a casual set of clothing, his precious letters tucked inside his shirt pocket. Then he takes a deep breath and enters the dining hall. The person in the dining hall stands immediately upon seeing him. Their black hair is pinned up in a fashionable way, and they're wearing a dress from that capital that he suspects that Vincent must have purchased for them using Brycen's money. Their amethyst eyes gleam with amusement from above their black face mask, and it takes everything in Brycen not to cross the dining hall in a rush and pull them into his arms.

Kaylin.

Here.

In his estate.