Prince Ford POV
I had never seen a welcome like this. In Maden, we were greeted with precision—bows measured to rank, cheers timed, banners raised because tradition demanded it. Respect was flawless. Joy was… curated.
This? This was real. The people of Nothingwood didn't just welcome us, they celebrated us. They celebrated her. Her returned. Her journey. Lady Seraphine waved from the carriage, tired and dust-smudged, and the crowd answered like she was a returning hero from legend. Not out of obligation. Out of love. Bakers, merchants, children, nobles, nobles, yes, stood shoulder to shoulder with common folk, laughing, singing, crying openly.
Like one big, ridiculous family. I felt something twist in my chest. I had heard stories of Nothingwood, poor soil, modest coffers, no grand army, no dazzling court. Certainly nothing like Maden's gold-lined halls or disciplined legions.
