It was quite late when Mayen finally had his source of relief. Around eight, he spotted Rowen walking in the twilight of the setting sun and of streetlamps. His shutters were almost closed, afraid to be spotted by that eye for a third time. He ran down, hastily, joyfully. He did not care if his excitement in a warm and humid night would make his skin slightly sticky beneath his nightshift. It was bond to be a cool night, yes, but he was in a city and living on the second floor.

-“My father is coming back!” He was shouting, wanting to spread his euphoria. “He is returning!”

The stairs barely slowed him down, worrying the two remaining maids. Olicia and the round one would be sleeping here tonight.

-“Slow down before you slid on your soft cushions all the way down.” The round maid was ever the first to speak.