CHAPTER 542: BACK HOME FOR A VISIT (3)

After confirming it was truly Liam standing at the door, Ane didn’t waste a single second. She stepped aside at once, ushering him into the estate with a briskness that betrayed her surprise, then guided him down the familiar hallway toward the waiting room. She asked him to stay there for a moment while she went to inform Dr. Dain and Madam Rose of his arrival.

Liam settled into the waiting room—a space he knew well, one that hadn’t changed in the slightest. The walls held the same paintings, the shelves the same books, the air the same quiet warmth that always hovered in the Silverhart household. He let his eyes roam without lingering too long, absorbing the familiarity piece by piece, until the soft sound of the doorknob turning pulled him from his thoughts.

The door opened, and two figures stepped inside.

Dr. Dain entered first, looking almost untouched by time. His silver hair was neatly combed, his attire tailored with the same understated refinement he’d always preferred. Beside him stood his wife, Madam Rose, ethereal as ever, her golden hair flowing like a silken river over her shoulders, her pristine blue gown accentuating her graceful aura.

The moment they stepped fully into the room and their eyes landed on Liam, both of them froze. Their breaths hitched—not in fear, but in the stunned, aching way of people witnessing something they had long prayed for but never fully expected to see again.

Liam opened his mouth, taking the initiative as he inclined his head respectfully. "Dr. Dain, Mrs. Rose, it’s be—"

He never finished.

In an instant, both of them moved, closing the distance with a rush of emotion and pulling him into an embrace that hit him harder than any spell or strike he had taken in his life. Dr. Dain’s arms wrapped firmly around him from one side while Rose clung to him from the other, their warmth surrounding him before he had a chance to process it.

Liam stiffened on instinct, his body reacting to the sudden closeness, the unfamiliar softness, the unguarded affection. For a moment he simply stood there, tense and unmoving, trapped between their arms. But as the seconds stretched and the sincerity of their hold sank in, he let out a slow breath and forced his muscles to ease. He returned the embrace—awkward, restrained, nowhere near matching the depth they poured into it—but neither Dain nor Rose seemed to mind in the slightest. To them, it was enough. To them, he had always been something more than an outsider or a ward.

He had been family.

After a long, silent moment, Dr. Dain pulled back first. He rested his hands on Liam’s shoulders, steadying him as if reassuring himself he was real. His eyes searched Liam’s face, tracing the sharper lines, the calm, controlled expression that hadn’t been there before.

"It looks like you’ve grown up well," he said, his voice thick with emotion that he barely kept in check.

Rose slowly withdrew from the embrace as well, though her hands didn’t fully leave him. One came up gently, cupping his cheek with the tenderness of a mother who never stopped worrying. Her eyes shimmered, reflecting both relief and disbelief.

"Liam..." she breathed, the word trembling as if it carried the weight of years. "You’ve come back to us."

Her fingertips brushed across his cheekbone, light as a whisper, tracing features she had memorized long ago. It was as though she needed to reassure herself that this was truly him and not a memory or a hopeful dream made manifest.

A shaky exhale escaped her, half-laugh, half-sob, before she continued. "You’re so much taller now... and your eyes..."

Her voice trailed off as she studied them more closely. The tension, the wariness, the guarded stillness she remembered was still there—yet beneath it lingered a depth she couldn’t quite place, a steadiness forged by something far beyond the ordinary. Something that hadn’t existed in him before.

"Your eyes look beautiful," Rose finally whispered, her smile warm and full of affection.

"Come now, Liam. Sit. We should all talk." Dr. Dain said as he finally composed himself. His tone carrying the weight of a man who had too much to say and not enough space in his chest to hold it any longer. Rose nodded beside him, her hand still lingering near Liam’s arm as if reluctant to fully let go. Liam allowed himself to be guided to one of the cushioned seats, settling down with the same quiet composure he had carried since stepping through the door. Dain and Rose sat across from him, their eyes never straying from his face, as though looking away might cause him to disappear.

Once they were seated, Dain leaned back slightly, though there was tension in his shoulders—something between leftover fear and profound relief. "Liam," he began, voice softer now but no less earnest, "you have no idea how happy we are that you’re alright. After the letter you sent some time ago, saying you couldn’t visit because of duties at the academy, we didn’t hear anything from you. Not a word." He paused, exhaling slowly. "And when the war broke out... Rose and I feared the worst. Every day, we worried that something might have happened to you."

Rose lowered her gaze for a moment, recalling the days of anxious waiting. "We did receive a letter later," she added gently, lifting her eyes to him again. "From Mystica Moonstone herself. She told us you were fine and under care, though she mentioned you were hospitalized for reasons she couldn’t share." Her smile was faint but sincere. "Even if she couldn’t explain everything, knowing you were alive and under good hands eased our hearts more than you can imagine."

Listening to them, Liam kept his posture composed, his expression steady, the slight stiffness in his shoulders the only sign of discomfort. "It wasn’t anything major," he replied, his tone calm, almost dismissive. "It was just a slight accident, that’s all. But I’m fine now, so there’s no need to worry. Trust me."

The relief that washed over Dain and Rose was almost palpable. Their shoulders softened, breaths loosening with the comfort of finally hearing directly from him. Dain even let out a short laugh—quiet but deeply relieved. "If I had known you were coming today," he said, shaking his head with a rueful smile, "I would have prepared a proper welcome. Something fitting."

"There’s no need for anything like that," Liam responded, his tone straightforward, devoid of theatrics or visible sentiment. "This is already enough."

Rose placed a hand over her heart, warmed by the sincerity hidden beneath his collected demeanor. Before she could say anything more, Liam shifted slightly and asked, "What about Elsie? Is she not home?"

Rose’s brows lifted for a moment, then she shook her head softly. "Elsie is out with one of her friends today. I’m not exactly sure when she’ll be back."

"I see," Liam said simply. He didn’t press further, didn’t show any sign of disappointment or expectation. His calm acceptance settled easily into the room.

Sensing that he had endured enough emotional weight for one afternoon, Rose rose gracefully from her seat. "You should go refresh yourself, dear. You must be tired after such a long journey. Once you’ve rested a little, come have something to eat." She turned to Dain, who nodded in agreement before standing as well.

Together, Dain and Rose walked with Liam through the familiar hallway, their steps echoing softly against the polished floors. The air felt unchanged—warm, lived-in, and quietly welcoming. They led him to his old room, untouched by time, preserved as though expecting his return all along.

When they stopped at the door, Rose opened it with a gentle smile. And just like that, they ushered him back into the space that had once been his sanctuary, the same room he had always called his own.