As Julian walked confidently into the county, his striking presence caused an immediate stir among the townsfolk. His badges reflected the sun rays making it seem like a divine ornament. His entire aura screamed authority—calm, proud, and unbothered.
“Is that… is that the Archduke?” a baker whispered, flour still on his hands.
“No way. What would he be doing here?” another murmured, clutching her child closer.
Some didn’t dare speak. One by one, townspeople began kneeling in awe.
A skeptical young man whispered, “He can’t be the real deal… maybe an impersonator?”
“Idiot,” an older man scolded. “Look at those badges. That’s no impersonator. That’s Julian Easvil. The Archduke himself.”
Julian didn’t so much as glance at them.
His gaze remained fixed on the castle ahead, steps steady, back straight.
The initial gasp soon erupted into full-blown chaos. People rushed out from their homes, crowding into the streets to catch even a glimpse of the Archduke.
Whispers exploded into excited chatter, spreading like wildfire: Julian Easvil had come to their county.
News traveled fast—and word had already reached Rose’s castle. Without wasting any moment, she grabbed her most trusted servant and hurried out of the castle. The closer she got to him, the thicker the crowd became, all parting reluctantly as she pushed forward.
By the time Julian was halfway through the county, Rose finally stepped up beside him. Their eyes locked instantly, and the noise of the crowd faded into a heavy silence, as if the world itself was holding its breath.
Julian’s lips curled into a calm, confident smile.
For a few frozen moments, neither moved. Then, Rose lowered herself to her knees, the woman behind her following suit.
Julian took a slow step forward, the crowd immediately hushing in response.
“It’s been ages, right, Rose?” he said, his voice laced with a hint of nostalgia.
Still on her knees, Rose looked up at him, eyes shimmering with memories.
“It sure has, my lord,” she replied, her tone formal.
She had so many things she wanted to say—questions to ask, stories to share. But her heart wavered. Had he changed? The Julian she remembered was warm, teasing, often unpredictable but always close. But now… this man before her carried himself like a sovereign, cloaked in authority and presence.
Her thoughts raced. Would he be offended if I spoke to him as I used to? Would he think it improper if I stood too close, if I smiled the same way, if I spoke without formality?
Julian looked down at her in silence, his smile fading into something softer. Then, his voice rang out gently but firmly, “Stand.”
Rose blinked, surprised. For a moment, her body hesitated. But then she obeyed, slowly rising, her movements graceful but cautious. Behind her, the maid followed suit, eyes lowered out of respect.
Now standing face to face with him, Rose met Julian’s gaze. He didn’t look away.
“My lord, let us head to the castle,” she said gently, stepping beside him.
Julian gave a small nod in response, his hands behind his back as he began walking alongside her. The guards and servants followed behind them, keeping a respectful distance.
As they made their way to the castle Julian spoke, “How is the county doing?”
Rose glanced at him, her face calm, though her voice retained its formal tone.
“My lord, it’s developing steadily. We’ve made progress in several areas—especially trade and agriculture. I’ve been personally overseeing things to make sure the pace doesn’t drop.”
Julian gave a short, approving hum as he glanced around. The difference was easy to see. The roads were properly paved, clean and well-maintained. The buildings, once worn down, were replaced with new structures.
Even the stalls along the market district looked more organized, and the presence of guards at regular intervals spoke to tighter security.
“Not bad,” he muttered, eyeing a newly constructed academy in the distance. “The foundations are strong. I can tell you’ve been putting in the work.”
Rose kept her hands in front of her, walking slightly behind him. “I’ve done what I could, my lord. I only wish to make sure your name is respected throughout these lands.”
Julian glanced sideways at her. “You always were the responsible one.”
She smiled faintly but didn’t respond.
They approached the castle gates soon after, where guards immediately stood at attention. The estate wasn’t grand like Easvil, but it was clean, polished, and carried its own sense of pride.
A fresh banner bearing Rose’s family crest fluttered above the entrance.
Julian paused before entering, taking in the view. “You’ve done well, Rose. Better than I expected.”
Rose bowed her head slightly, her voice soft. “Your words mean much to me, Julian… my lord.”
Julian smiled, sensing the storm of emotions swirling within Rose. But he didn’t press her. He simply walked beside her.
At the entrance to the castle stood two men—Rose’s father, the aging Count, and her younger brother. Both of them immediately dropped to one knee upon seeing Julian.
Their expressions were etched with deep respect. After all, it was Julian who had once saved their life and given a second chance at life.
Julian stopped before them. “It’s been a while, old man.”
The older man kept his head bowed. “Too long, Your Grace. We are honored to welcome you.”
Julian waited for a few moment before lightly gesturing for them to rise. “Let’s not waste too much time kneeling. I didn’t come here for ceremonies.”
They exchanged a few courteous words, touching on the state of the county, trade developments, and border security.
Afterward, Rose stepped forward. “My lord, allow me to show you around the castle.”
Julian nodded, his hands still behind his back as she led the way. The tour began from the main hall—decorated now with a mix of old noble tradition and more modern touches.
He observed silently as she guided him through the various wings—the family’s private quarters, the guest rooms, the treasury, the training yard, and even the recently modified library.
“You’ve improved it,” Julian said.
“I’ve only done what I thought would make you proud,” she replied.
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