Suddenly, a soldier came running toward them.
—Lady Emily... your mother wishes to see you.
Emily was startled.
—My mother? Is she all right?
—She is fine, my lady. She only... wishes to thank the Douglas heir.
Lusian nodded and straightened his posture, adopting a more formal demeanor.
—It will be a pleasure to speak with Lady Emma.
They walked together for a few steps until the countess appeared beneath the archway leading to the central district.
Countess Emma Carter was still wearing her blue dress, patched in several places. The wear and tear had failed to strip her of her dignity. Her eyes, tired but clear, softened when she saw her daughter safe and unharmed.
Then she looked at Lusian.
And her expression changed.
Relief and genuine gratitude appeared in her eyes.
—Lord Lusian Douglas —she said, inclining her head slightly—. I am deeply grateful for everything you have done. For my daughter, for my people... for everyone who found shelter thanks to you.
Lusian responded with the same courtesy.
—Lady Emma. I only did what needed to be done.
The countess smiled. It was a fragile gesture, but a genuine one.
—Even so —she added calmly—, I am indebted to you. The entire territory is.
Emily looked at her mother.
Then she looked at Lusian.
And felt something strange.
Warm.
Subtle.
For the first time since the world had turned into hell...
she wasn't afraid.
Count Daniel Carter rode without stopping.
His horse was breathing heavily, its coat covered in sweat. The eight hundred soldiers following him—the same veterans who had survived the war against the Empire—could barely maintain formation.
None of them dared ask for a break.
Daniel would not have allowed it.
Not while the image of his wife and daughter, Emily, kept replaying in his mind.
He had already lost his son, Manuel, months earlier.
Sometimes he still woke in the middle of the night with trembling hands, haunted by the echo of a scream that no longer existed.
He could not bear to lose them as well.
That was why, when they encountered survivors along the road—women with torn clothes, starving children, elderly people barely able to remain standing—the count hardened his heart.
Their pleas followed him for miles.
—Please, my lord! Take us with you!
—The monsters will come back! We can't stay here!
—My child...! My child can't walk anymore!
His men looked at him, waiting for an order.
Daniel stared toward the horizon.
Toward his home.
—Keep moving —he ordered without turning around.
The horrified looks.
The desperation.
That silent sense of betrayal.
He knew they would haunt him for the rest of his life.
But if he lost his family, none of it would matter.
When the walls of his city appeared through the bluish mist, Daniel pulled hard on the reins.
The horse came to an abrupt stop.
—What...? —one of his captains murmured.
The field in front of the city was scorched.
It looked as though a giant had hurled fire and ice across the land.
Smoking craters were scattered everywhere, along with the charred remains of monsters.
Daniel stared at the aftermath of the battle.
The spells that had left those marks possessed a power that the mages of his territory could never hope to match.
—Who could have done this...?
But something else was even stranger.
There were no monsters.
Not a single one.
As they passed through the gates, Daniel prepared himself to hear crying, screams, and desperate orders.
But what he found left him frozen.
Children running through the streets.
Mothers scolding them.
Soldiers carrying sacks of food.
The smell of freshly baked bread.
Laughter.
Daniel's heart, which had been beating beneath the weight of fear for days, seemed to tighten inside his chest.
—My lord... —one of his soldiers whispered—. They're... all right.
A child ran past them with a stick serving as a sword.
—Look at me! I'm a Douglas! Take this, monsters!
Daniel frowned.
That name...
Beside him, Alejandro Jones nearly ground his teeth together.
Douglas.
The clan that had destroyed his family.
The name that, to him, meant blood, death, and ruin.
Seeing children playing while using the Douglas name as though it belonged to a hero made anger pierce through him like a spear.
When they reached the castle, Daniel almost fell to his knees.
The Carter banners flew above the walls.
But beside them...
the Douglas banners flew as well.
Immaculate.
Proud.
Daniel swallowed.
—So... —he whispered hoarsely— it was them.
Alejandro clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white.
Them?
Heroes?
To him, they could never be.
To him...
they were killers.
When he entered the castle, Lady Emma Carter ran toward him.
She didn't walk.
She didn't approach with the usual dignity of a countess.
She ran.
—Daniel!
The count caught her in his arms.
For the first time in weeks, he felt as though the ground had stopped collapsing beneath his feet.
Emma told him everything through tears and broken words.
The siege.
The hunger.
The desperation.
Lusian Douglas's arrival.
Their salvation.
Daniel closed his eyes.
An inexplicable weight settled over his chest.
If he had brought the survivors he encountered along the road with him...
If he had had a little more faith...
Perhaps they would be receiving hot bread right now.
Instead of...
Daniel shook his head.
It was too late.
Everything was too late.
While the count and countess reunited, Alejandro walked through the polished stone corridors.
He heard laughter.
A soft, warm sound.
A sound that, only days ago, would have seemed impossible.
Emily's laughter.
Alejandro stopped in front of a half-open door.
He saw her sitting there, relaxed, smiling.
And beside her was Lusian Douglas, talking with her as if they had known each other forever.
Emily looked peaceful.
Safe.
Happy.
Alejandro felt something twist inside him.
A fleeting and cruel thought, born from pain and fear, crossed his mind.
Perhaps it would have been easier to find her dead...
than to see her smiling beside a Douglas.
The shadow of that thought remained inside him.
And it would not disappear anytime soon.