The gates of House Veynhardt creaked open, and Perry felt a wave of relief wash over her as the familiar cobblestone courtyard came into view.
Her armor felt heavier than usual, dented from lizardmen claws that had come too close, and Ash's shield dangled like a ragged flag from his arm.
Sir Reginald leaned on the boy for support, his face pale but steady - the golden healing had mended his wounds, but the exhaustion lingered.
Home, Perry thought, finally.
The staff froze mid-task - a maid dropped her linen basket with a gasp, stablehands gawked with pitchforks half-raised.
"My lady!" the chambermaid cried. "You're hurt! What happened?"
Peregrine mustered a tired smile, tucking her helmet under her arm.
"Nothing we couldn't handle. Just a detour on the pilgrimage."
Inside, the manor felt both welcoming and confining - ivy-clad walls, towers flying the silver hawk banner.
As Count Leofric Veynhardt's daughter, she knew that every scratch on her armor would fuel whispers among the servants.
But she was too tired to care.
Her father's lands bordered the Soltron principalities to the north-east and Karsovia to the south, making the estate a hub of politics he navigated with moderate caution.
But Perry's mind wasn't on borders or factions; it was still echoing with memories of golden light and lizardmen attacks.
Word of her return reached the Count fast.
Perry's heart sank when she heard the footsteps on the corridor. _Here it comes._Count Leofric entered the room with quick steps.
He was a man of medium height, with a perpetually tired look in his eyes, but dressed in the finest clothes that the tailors of the royal capital could sew.
Her father had never been able to grow a decent beard - his thinning mustache and goatee hung miserably from his face, as if someone had glued them there.
If someone had met him on the street, only his clothes would have revealed that he was one of the most influential men in the kingdom.
And she never saw him so angry.
"Perry!" he barked. "Where have you been? Without an escort? And you come back looking like you've been fighting trolls? What kind of madness is this?"
He took a deep breath and calmed down, but his gaze remained stern.
"The escort soldiers said you left the camp for a while to spar with Sir Reginald," her father said slowly.
A pause. "And they searched for you for two days!"
She straightened up, ignoring the pain in her side. "Father, it was just... a small detour... a pilgrimage to the shrine of St. Durmond.
I know the Captain wouldn't let me.
And then we found that lizardmen had desecrated it - so I had to act."
"Act?" he raised his voice.
"You are a Veynhardt!
Nobles command armies, they do not throw themselves into danger alone.
You are forbidden to leave the estate - no more reckless escapades!"
Perry's cheeks burned.
He didn't understand.
__It was a knightly duty, perhaps a trial sent by St. Durmont himself.
She opened her mouth to argue, but his glare pinned her silent.
Ash stepped up, helmet off, freckles standing out on his earnest face. "My lord, Lady Peregrine was heroic. Without her, we'd be gone."
Sir Reginald nodded gravely, his mentor's voice steady. "These were extraordinary circumstances, Count. She upheld her knightly oath, and showed true courage in protecting the Goddess shrine. And completed her pilgrimage, in a way."
The father's head turned to look at the tall portrait hanging on the wall. It was a painting of their family.
It showed a blue-eyed lady with her hands on the shoulders of a little eight-year-old girl.
He lowered his voice. "What would I say to your mother if you didn't come back...?"
Her father turned away.
"I'm glad you're back in one piece," he added after a moment.
Father's expression softened slightly. He rubbed his temples, sighing. "For the saint's sake... you are forgiven. But no vanishing again without word. Duty comes before glory, Perry."
She bowed, relief mixing with frustration. _Duty. Always duty.
"You may go," her father said generously.Ash and Sir Reginald bowed, relief visible on their faces."But not you, Sir Reginald,"_ count added in an icy voice.
Perry closed the door behind her and her squire.
I'm sorry, master.
Dinner that evening in the great hall was a balm for her shaken heart - venison, fresh bread, a bit of spiced wine.
Her older brother, home from the capital academy, leaned in eagerly; her younger sister watched with wide eyes.
"...and then the golden nun appeared like divine wrath! Lizardmen swarming, but she swung her maul - boom! Split the hill like parchment. Holy canyon everywhere!"
Her brother burst out laughing. "A hill? Perry, you're spinning yarns!"
Her sister joined, giggling. "You're just like her! Charging caves headfirst, without a plan."
Perry flushed red but grinned. "That's no exaggeration! Sister Fanática's power is real - she punishes evil without a second thought, and helps anyone in need.
Her faith is pure and primal, like a storm. The goddess manifests herself through her. If more people were like her, the world would be a just place."
Even here, tales of Faná's exploits had already reached them.
Count Leofric thought that if more people were like her, the world might be fairer, but there would also be a lot more glowing craters and holy meadows.
The table quieted, amusement fading to thoughtfulness.
Her brother nodded slowly. "Sounds dangerous. But brave."
As plates cleared, Perry slipped to her chamber balcony, cool night air brushing her face.
Stars wheeled overhead. Faná's zeal replayed in her mind - it was raw and unstoppable, like holy fire.
Her own chivalric ideals seemed shallow in comparison… constrained by her family's rules and expectations.
Will they one day tell a story about me?
Will the goddess look upon me with a gracious eye, and allow me to perform deeds that will become legendary, like St. Durmond?
And yet she felt no jealousy toward the Saintess.
Her presence was like a spark of inspiration.
Perry smiled faintly.
"Tomorrow, I'll train harder…"
The estate slept, but Peregrine's dreams that night burned with golden light and the clash of steel.