We passed through the fortress city that served as a checkpoint and marched deeper into the lands of House Feltio. Even with Panamera’s well-drilled elites, the march still took a solid two weeks—infantry slowed us down, though it was hardly a flaw. His pacing was deliberate: steady marches, careful scouting, and thorough night watches. No wasted fatigue, always battle-ready. That, I realized, was Panamera’s true strength.
Of course, if he ever needed to strike like lightning, I had no doubt his men could outpace any other host. A disciplined corps through and through. If Dee trained a knightly order for ten straight years… would they become something like this?
Those idle thoughts carried me as the lead ranks reached the great gates of the First City, the seat of Marquis Feltio.
The walls were towering, stonework solid enough to rival the royal capital itself. My own fortifications back in Seat Village had borrowed this city’s dimensions, though I admit I’d tried to one-up them with extra carvings and flourishes. The spires and barracks within, though plain, carried their own austere beauty—pure, unyielding strength. A true medieval fortress.
And despite myself, despite the exile, I felt a pang of nostalgia. This had been home for eight years.
“…Lord Van, are you… happy?” Arte asked carefully. Her voice drew me back from staring too long at the cityscape.
I chuckled ruefully. “Happy? I’m not sure. But it’s familiar. And that alone makes it… something. After all, it’s where I was born.”
A soft sniffling noise interrupted. Til was dabbing at her face with a handkerchief, shoulders trembling.
“S-sorry… I just—snff—couldn’t help it…”
So much for nostalgia being a private affair. Panamera’s brow tightened, misreading the moment just as Camshyn knocked on the door and peeked in.
“Pardon, Lord Van—we’ve arrived—” He froze, spotting Til in tears, then glanced nervously at Panamera.
“…I did not scold her,” Panamera muttered, almost defensive.
I waved quickly. “No, no. I was just being sentimental, and Til… well, she cried for me instead.”
That earned Camshyn’s solemn nod, though he asked, “Shall I shutter the windows then?”
“No need,” I said. “Rosalie of the Mary Company once told me—there are people here who might miss me. I’d like to see familiar faces again.”
Camshyn bowed out. Silence settled, filled with watchful looks from Arte and Panamera. Embarrassing, but… also warming.
The gate guards waved us through, and the bustle of the First City surrounded us. From the carriage window I saw crowds gathering—not just passersby, but people pressing close, eyes bright.
Then—“Lord Van!?”
A girl’s voice. My gaze snapped to a young figure in a red dress. Taller now, but unmistakable—Veeza, the guard’s daughter. Behind her stood her father Shasson, still in his watchman’s garb, and a woman who had to be her mother.
“Been a while, Veeza! Did you grow taller?” I called, smiling and waving.
Her mother flushed and bent her head. “Forgive us, Lord Van. We heard you’ve become a baron… my daughter spoke out of turn.”
I winced. “Come on, don’t say that. Veeza’s my friend. That hasn’t changed.”
The family froze as if I’d spoken heresy. For a moment I feared I’d overstepped—then laughter rippled through the crowd.
“Hah! That’s Lord Van, all right!”
“Welcome home!”
“Do you still remember me!?”
The voices closed in, cheerful, unrestrained. My eyes stung before I could stop it.
“W-wait, one at a time! I can’t hear anything if you all shout together!”
The laughter only grew at my fluster.
“Lord Van, this carriage is incredible!”
“Cool, right? I built it myself.”
“And these knights—yours too?”
“No, no. Mostly Baron Panamera’s men.”
The carriage slowed as I chatted with townsfolk, more and more flocking alongside us like a festival parade.
Then a youth asked, “Lord Van… are you staying? Here, in the city?”
That one stopped me cold. For a heartbeat, I wanted to say yes. Their faces, their joy—it was hard not to. But no. I was a lord now, of Seat Village. To abandon that duty would be betrayal.
“…I’m sorry. I can’t. His Majesty entrusted me with Seat Village, and I can’t leave it.”
Their smiles faltered, so I added quickly, “But—if you’d like, come visit! Seat has hot baths, food, even new houses waiting. Consider it an invitation—exclusive for First City folk!”
Cheers erupted, hands waving, voices rising. I waved back, laughing—until Panamera chuckled darkly behind me.
“Well played, boy. Recruiting settlers under the Marquis’s very nose? To him, that’s as good as treason.”
I turned back, still smiling, but my head tilted in alarm.
“…Eh?”
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