Over the next week, General Valerius and the new administrators worked diligently alongside Victor to make Prato and the surrounding area more prosperous. Victor introduced sustainable forestry practices and began reinvesting the county's funds into creating more and better quality charcoal kilns.
With the best earning industries in timber and charcoal getting funds to expand and improve upon them, the city could continue to make money that could go towards other important projects.
There were three projects Victor instructed General Valerius to focus on; the first was road improvement. Better quality roads made transporting goods easier. The second was the development of orchards; if they could create another food supply source, the city could thrive. Lastly, Victor wanted General Valerius to implement a military system for the militia.
Valerius and the Luxenberg officers were introduced to General Scharnhorst's rotating short-term training system. They would then begin to implement this in the county. If Prato could defend itself while being isolated, nearby allies could come to support it.
General Valerius was a valuable asset for Victor in the region. He may not have possessed any martial prowess, but his mind was sharp. Not only did he excel in strategy, but he also had a mind for governing. With Valerius acting as the governor of this county, Victor could rest easy knowing that the region would be well taken care of.
With Prato in good hands, Victor and his party returned to Sinolla. By the time they had arrived, General Picton and General Kamensky had brought their troops to the city. Now that Victor had all his troops with him, they could return to Hannover.
All the arriving soldiers were promptly loaded onto transport ships. There was a bit more room on the ships compared to when they first set sail for Zandar. Many comrades had lost their lives in this civil war. Many loved ones would come to grieve these losses when they returned home, but for now, the extra room was a bitter feeling of comfort.
When everyone was aboard the transport ships, it was now time to depart from Sinolla.
The Holy Trinity cut cleanly through the northern waters, her dark-blue banners snapping crisply in the wind, each emblazoned with Luxenberg's golden eagle—a gleaming reminder that King Victor was finally on his way home.
The voyage from Sinolla to the capital of Hannover would take two full months, a long arc across colder seas, but for the first time in nearly a year, Victor felt the steady pull of home like a lodestone in his chest.
The Sinollan harbour had slipped behind them at dawn. As the fleet departed, the city unfurled beneath a sky of soft ochre and pearl, its terracotta rooftops glowing like warm embers against the crisp sea air.
Cobbled streets wound down toward the port in neat ribbons, framed by old stone buildings, green-shuttered windows, and the constant bustle of stevedores shouting orders as cargo changed hands. It was the last sight of the southern world—a place of warmth, sharp spices, and salt-stained winds.
Now, only the open sea lay ahead.
By the fourth day, the temperature had dropped, and the winds grew sharp enough that sailors wrapped scarves around their necks. The waters deepened to a colder shade of blue, and seabirds became fewer, giving the journey an austere quiet.
Victor spent his mornings on the quarterdeck, hands clasped behind his back, watching the horizon. Grand Admiral Nelson, a stout and seasoned officer, took pride in keeping the Holy Trinity perfectly aligned at the head of the formation.
"Strong wind today, Your Majesty," Nelson remarked, eyeing the taut sails. "We will make good time."
Victor nodded. "Let us hope it holds. I am sure my wife would appreciate that."
The men laughed softly—the kind of laugh one gives a king without seeming impertinent.
The northern sea, polite until the third to last week, finally showed its temper.
A storm struck with little warning—winds lashing like whips, the sea rising in dark mountainous swells. The Holy Trinity held fast, her hull groaning but unyielding. Victor stood beside the helmsman for nearly two hours, cloak whipping violently, until Nelson nearly shoved him below decks.
"You'll do the kingdom no good if you're tossed overboard, Majesty!"
Victor relented, retreating to the war room where maps slid and trembled on the table. The thunder rumbled through the wood like the growl of some ancient creature.
By dawn, the storm had passed. The fleet was intact—two ships damaged, one mast splintered, but no lives lost. A small miracle.
Victor emerged to a washed-clean sky streaked with pale gold, the sun breaking over calm waters like a blessing.
The next week brought colder winds and the sight of distant northern birds—white-winged terns that never ventured far from Luxenberg's coasts.
The sailors cheered. Even Victor allowed himself a thin smile.
By the last week, the sea took on a familiar greyish hue, and colder fog rolled in the evenings. The scent in the air changed too—less brine, more distant pine forests carried from the far coast.
One crisp morning, the lookout shouted down:
"Land ho! Western cliffs!"
The officers rushed to the rail. Far on the horizon, like jagged teeth rising from the sea, lay the stony coast of southern Bulgar.
Victor exhaled slowly. "Home."
The fleet angled east along the coast. Fishing villages appeared like tiny clusters of smoke and slate roofs. As the ships drew closer, fishermen raised their caps and waved from their boats, realising who sailed past them.
Luxenberg ships are returning. The Golden Eagle is returning.
And then—finally—after two months at sea, the harbour of Hannover came into view.
The capital glistened under the morning sun, the waves smoothly rocking the ships as they inch closer to the magnificent city of Hannover.
Dockworkers crowded the wharves. Merchants. City guards. Families. Ministers. Hundreds of people of every class pressed together, waiting for the moment the king would set foot on land again.
Victor stood tall at the bow of the Holy Trinity, cloak snapping behind him, golden eagle standards rippling in the wind.
"Home, Your Majesty," Grand Admiral Nelson said, smiling broadly.
Victor nodded once, firmly. "Home."
The ship glided into the harbour, cannons firing the royal salute, bells ringing across the city, and the people of Luxenberg shouting their welcome.
King Victor Luxenberg had returned.