The carriage swayed.
The landscape drifted past the gaps in the canvas cover. Viewed through my left eye alone, the world felt narrower than it had three years ago.
We hadn't been able to approach the Laufen Margraviate. Captain Anton said the enemy's soldiers were swarming the border. Instead, we took a wide detour, traveling a long, winding road.
I couldn't say how much time had passed. I had lost the ability to count the days long ago. Just like back in that basement, time simply slipped away while I sat in the carriage, oblivious to our location.
However, there was one thing that was different.
Mira was beside me.
She was there when I woke, and she was there before I drifted off. She gave me water, fed me, adjusted my blankets, and tended to my needs. Her words were few, but her hand never once let go of mine.
A hill came into view.
A gentle, rolling hill covered in bright green grass. My body recognized the sight even before my mind could process it. Beyond this hill lay the mansion.
I had prayed for this view countless times. I expected to feel something—joy, relief, a sense of peace.
But the emotions were elusive, like something lost behind a thick fog.
I had dreamed of this so often, only to wake in despair. Perhaps I still couldn't believe it was real.
The carriage came to a halt.
I heard the creak of the gates. I thought I heard familiar voices.
Mira gazed at me intently. Then, she spoke softly.
"Welcome home, Lord Rein."
I nodded.
◇◇◇
I lifted Lord Rein in my arms and stepped out of the carriage.
He was light—unnervingly so. This wasn't the weight of a ten-year-old boy; he was lighter than he'd been at seven. I felt almost no weight in my arms.
I would be the one to carry him.
Captain Anton offered to take over several times during the journey. I refused every time. I had no intention of letting anyone else hold him. I hadn't let go since the moment I pulled him to my chest in that dungeon, and I didn't plan to start now.
As the doors to the mansion opened, the household stood waiting.
The word must have reached them. The entire family was gathered.
Lord Wilhelm stood in the center, with Lady Roswitha and Sophie on either side of him. Behind them were Lord Albrecht, Lady Heide, and the twins, Liese and Rose.
Every eye was fixed on us.
I walked toward them, one steady step at a time.
I could feel them staring—at Lord Rein's snow-white hair, his emaciated frame, his ruined eye.
No one could find their voice.
Lord Wilhelm’s expression remained stony, his pride as a Count the only thing holding him together. But his fists were trembling. He took a single step forward, then stopped. His mouth opened, but no sound came out.
Lady Roswitha’s knees buckled for a split second before she gripped Lord Wilhelm’s arm to steady herself.
Sophie clamped both hands over her mouth, silent sobs wracking her frame as tears streamed down her face. Her body shook uncontrollably.
Lord Albrecht’s face twisted in a mask of agony, his knuckles cracking as he clenched his fists. He had no one to strike, and that directionless fury transformed his features into something unrecognizable.
Lady Heide wept, yet she never once averted her gaze or blinked.
Liese and Rose didn't understand. Their elder brother was home, but he was white-haired and small—smaller than even they were. They knew something was wrong. The twins looked at each other, and then Liese took a step forward.
"Elder Brother Rein...?"
It was a tiny voice.
That whisper was the only thing that broke the silence. Amidst the adults who were paralyzed by the sight, only the voice of a child who didn't yet understand what had happened echoed through the hall.
Lord Rein stirred.
His remaining hand—his right—lifted slowly. He reached out toward his family.
He couldn't speak, but his gaze was fixed on them. It was the same look he had given me in the basement—an eye that spoke volumes.
Lord Wilhelm finally broke.
One step. Two steps. He crossed the distance and reached out to brush Lord Rein's white hair with a trembling, weathered hand.
"...Welcome home, Rein."
His voice shook.
Lord Rein’s lips moved. No sound came out.
But I could read the shape of the words.
—I'm home.
I put a little more strength into the arms holding him.
◇◇◇
I returned to my study once the children had been settled.
Lady Roswitha and Sophie were already there. Both sat in a heavy silence.
The image of my son was seared into my mind.
The boy who reached out to us with his only hand... Until three years ago, he’d been a child with chestnut hair and a smile that never faded.
I sat down. For a long time, none of us said a word.
"...You both know the stories of Saint Therese," I said, finally breaking the silence.
The restoration of lost limbs—returning one to their "proper form." It was a miracle known throughout the kingdom. There were records of her treating over a dozen people, though only a few had been successful.
The Church’s price was steep, but for the House of the Count, it was manageable.
"I've already looked into it," Lady Roswitha replied. "The records are legitimate. For the Church, treating the son of a nobleman kidnapped by an enemy state would be excellent publicity. If we make a formal request, I doubt they would refuse."
"But..." Sophie’s voice was barely a whisper. "The people who underwent that miracle..."
She trailed off, her head hanging low.
"...Yes. I've heard the rumors as well," Lady Roswitha nodded. She didn't elaborate.
I closed my eyes.
Rein couldn't walk. He couldn't hold anything. He was blind in one eye and would never be able to marry. To leave him in such a state would be a cruelty far worse than any cost.
However, I wasn't deciding based on that alone.
That child—he had survived three years of hell. He hadn't broken.
He reached out his hand to us. He tried to say "I'm home." Even if he had no voice, the will was clearly there.
"...I believe in his strength," I said, meeting their eyes. "No matter what happens, we will be by his side. Let us summon the Saint."
The two of them nodded silently.
We had brought him back. We had managed to bring him home alive. But this wasn't over.
Our war to reclaim the past has only just begun.
— Chapter 1: "Failure and Loss" End —