Paul stood by the window of the study in the Lord's Manor, his fingers lightly tracing the familiar grain of the wood frame.
Seven days of disappearance had felt like seven years to him, or perhaps ten, or even far longer. In that otherworldly space without clocks or day and night, time had been impossible to measure precisely.
It had felt like a long dream, but the rough sensation beneath his fingertips reminded him—this was reality.
"Philip." He summoned the Old Chief Steward, his voice slightly hoarse. "Go invite Chief Steward Ford, Chief of Staff Schroeder, Bryce, Cecil, Berna, and Hansel. Tell them all to come here. Say... that I'm back."
The Old Chief Steward's eyes reddened instantly. As he bowed deeply, his silvery-white hair trembled faintly in the sunlight. "Yes, my lord."
He turned to the head of the guards. "Victor, arrange for someone to notify the other gentlemen."
When Victor turned to leave after receiving the order, Paul noticed the head guard's boot catch on the threshold. Even this normally composed warrior had lost his composure.
Half an hour later, hurried footsteps sounded in the corridor.
The first to burst in was Bryce Alder. The usually brash Artillery Director rushed into the room, but when he saw the figure by the window, he suddenly froze in place. His lips trembled, yet he could not speak.
"What? You don't recognize me after seven days?" Paul teased deliberately, only to see Bryce raise a hand and fiercely wipe his eyes.
As one of the few people who knew the lord had disappeared, Bryce had been filled with worry inside, but he had continued forcing a smile in front of outsiders to maintain his usual image.
Now that Paul had returned, he could finally let his true feelings show.
Old Ford