The afternoon sun filtered weakly through the trees, casting long shadows over the small cemetery nestled behind the old church. The scent of fresh soil lingered in the air, mingling with the faint fragrance of flowers laid gently over Esmeralda’s resting place. The ceremony had been quiet, intimate—just a handful of close friends and family gathered around in solemn reflection.

Riele stood beside Harry, both dressed in black. The wind tugged gently at the hem of her long coat, but she ...