Peter, Frederick and Niko Winslough had set off to Habichtsburg, leaving the gates of the Holy City with only a small escort, as their house guards and house staff there in the city had been dismissed.
As they neared the borders of Ostlaukirchen, Peter sighed, saying over to Niko while slowing the pace of his steed. "Sad, sad indeed. We no longer have a hold over our land here. Though, it will forever be our home." Peter sighed, adjusting his longsword's sheath. "It's a pity we lost everything so early. The vassalage declaration was entirely in vane. Plans ruined. But this won't be our end. I can assure you cousin. This was not our golden age. But merely the beginning."
As they continued along the country road and past the gates of habichtsburg, Peter greeted his father and mother, along with his Uncle Sebastian Winslough who had just returned home to dismiss their troops. Peter offered yet another displeased sigh, turning his attention to his father, Leopold II. "I'm sorry father. We had our good days, and some not so good days. But I feel we should focus on rebuilding. One day the Winslough banner will extend from the eastern coast to the west. Though for now, let us feast in peace. Let us celebrate this time of rest away from foul naysayers and the lazy, tea sipping fools that plague our holy city. And let us prepare for the future. House Winslough will return."
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