But only one pair of cloudy eyes remained, burning with the fiercest will to survive. The old man tremulously reached his hand through the wooden bars and grasped his daughter's hand.
"...Is this real?"
Dirfiel felt that large, withered-bark-like hand rubbing hers, and at last her tears burst forth. The torment she had endured day and night seemed to find some recompense at this moment.
Yes, she had returned.
Returned to Yanbao.
To the land that had given birth to and raised her.
When the situation between the north and south began to ease, she had begged Her Highness the Princess for an army so she could reclaim everything that had once belonged to her. Although Antitina had hoped she would wait for Brando to return, how could her father wait until then?
Fortunately, Adviser Miss had still agreed to her request. When she returned to the north, the First Prince had also given her all the help he could. Whether it was this or the fleet behind her, Dirfiel understood that everything was due to the kindness of that Earl.
Perhaps that fateful meeting in Ambersell had been the turning point in all this.
Lady Martha had never given up on her, even when she had embraced the darkness.
"Open the cell!" She reluctantly released her father's hand, then commanded with the authority befitting the Count's Daughter of Yanbao.
The attendants obeyed, but the Earl of Yanbao seemed far too weak. Perhaps meeting his daughter again had exhausted all his strength, and he had already fallen into a deep sleep.
Dirfiel did not dare disturb him. She signaled for the attendants to move quietly and carefully carried the Earl to his room. He truly needed a good rest now. At least he no longer had to live in fear.