The morning of the departure arrived not with a golden sunrise, but with a heavy, oppressive grey sky that seemed to flatten the world. Their world.

The courtyard was a hive of activity. Silver-gilded carriages, embossed with the sun-disk of the Holy Empire, stood like alien monuments against the dark stone of the manor.

Elian was already mounted on a pale mare, his expression one of patient, serene victory. He watched as the heavy doors of the manor creaked open for the last time.

Julian stepped out, his breath hitching in the frigid air. He was bundled in the thickest Northern furs, but the cold he felt wasn’t from the wind—it was the hollow ache in his chest.

In his arms, he held Lucius, who was clinging to him with a quiet, fierce desperation.

Alaric walked beside them, his presence a dark, towering shadow. Behind them, Zane followed, his usual flamboyant air replaced by a sharp, calculating stillness as he adjusted his riding gloves.

"The time has come, Saint," Elian said, his voice ringing clearly through the courtyard. "The Heavens await."

Julian ignored him, turning instead to Alaric. The Duke reached out, his hands dropping on Julian’s shoulders, and pulling him and Lucius into one final, crushing embrace. For a moment, the world of empires and saints ceased to exist. There was only the scent of frost, pine, leather, and the frantic beat of Alaric’s heart.

"Sixty days," Alaric growled into Julian’s ear, his voice thick. "I will be counting. If you are a minute late, I will not be coming to negotiate."

"I know, Lucien. But I think we should wait until we get there to say our final goodbyes," Julian said, smiling in good faith.

It was a smile that was meant to mask the pain in his heart. The pain was clawing, trying to rip away his resolve and force him back into those walls.

But he stood his ground.

He had decided to do this, so he would do it to the end.

They got into the carriage, the Duke mounting his own black and fierce horse.

Zane got in his own carriage, resting his head on his palm and looking through the window at the manor.

He didn’t have as much fun as he had come to have, and the priests in white had ruined it all. But he guessed he could try again. Maybe after the scholar returned from the Holy Empire.

The Duke swung his reins and pulled them; his horse neighed, clawing its hooves into the air, and Alaric gave the signal.

"Depart!"

The procession began to move.

The journey across the continent was an agonizing test of endurance. For three days, the procession moved out of the Viremount Empire, leaving the familiar jagged peaks of the North behind.

As they crossed into the Holy Empire, the landscape shifted. The wild, untamed forests were replaced by lawned fields and white-stone villages where every town square held a shrine to the Light.

Alaric and Zane, who had gotten out of the carriage to witness the scenery more clearly, rode next to Julian’s carriage.

Lucius looked out the window when he was not sleeping, his eyes twinkling as he saw the things he had never seen before, the houses that were built differently.

The white landscapes... It was all fascinating to not just the child but Julian as well.

It was a sharp contrast to the kind of white in the North. Here, it was warm, but it was still white. But the North was White because of the cold and the snow.

Alaric stayed by the carriage window, his hand never far from his sword, his eyes watching every priest who dared to look at Julian.

And then he caught Julian staring.

The villages were eye-catching, he knew, but that was not enough for Julian to change his mind and decide to live there.

He had nothing to worry about.

Finally, the shimmering towers of the Holy City appeared on the horizon—a forest of white spires and golden domes.

At the massive, pearlescent gates of the capital, the procession ground to a halt.

This was the final stop.

Beyond these gates, only those invited by the Church or the Pope himself could pass. Northern steel and Southern titles held no weight here.

The carriage door opened. Julian stepped down, holding Lucius. The boy immediately turned to his father, his small face crumpled with grief.

"Daddy," Lucius spoke, the word shaky but clear.

Alaric dismounted his horse and took the boy, holding him so tight it seemed he wanted to fuse their bodies together. He buried his face in his son’s neck, feeling his son tremble.

"It’s fine, Lucius. I’ll be at home waiting for you," he muttered, and then he looked at Julian.

Julian stepped into his space, wrapping his arms around Alaric’s waist, pressing his face against the cold metal of the Duke’s travel armor.

He could feel the Duke’s hands shaking.

"Now, we can have the travel farewell," Julian muttered, and Alaric smiled.

"Yes. Take care of yourself, Julian."

"You too, Lucien," Julian mumbled. "Make sure you don’t skip your meals just because I’m not there to monitor you. You have to get your head out of work, rest often, and eat at all times, okay?" He turned to Kaelen, who was also among the procession. "Make sure the Duke doesn’t skip his meals, please."

Sir Kaelen nodded

"I will do my best, Master Julian."

Julian nodded, wiping the tears that were forming in his eyes.

"Lucius," Alaric called. "Don’t give your master a hard time, okay?"

Lucius nodded.

"And make sure to send a lot of letters. Remind your master to write more as well," he added, and Lucius once again nodded.

He brushed his son’s hair, kissed his forehead, and then kissed Julian’s forehead as well.

"Now go," Alaric rasped, the word sounding like it was torn from his lungs. "Before I break the deal and take you both back."

Julian pulled away, his eyes blurred with tears.

"Aren’t you going to give me a farewell hug as well?" Zane asked, spreading his arms, but they all gave him blank stares.

Julian turned to Alaric and said,

"Please make sure the prince is nowhere to be found once I get back,"

"I already threw out his luggage," Alaric responded, and a sharp gasp came from Zane.

He gripped his chest, staggering slightly.

"Ouch, that hurts, Master Julian." He said, acting dramatically as usual, and Lucius stuck his tongue out at him. "Ah, now you’re all ganging up on me."