Erich stood outside the front doors of his family's palace. He had not been raised in such a luxurious state, at least not during the first years of his life.
No, like his father before him, he had been raised in an older, far more humble manor on the outskirts of Berlin.
But for many years now, this had been his home. And it was home to his wife and children.
For nearly three years he had not seen his family. He had been invading France, maintaining peace in the aftermath of the Republic's collapse, or fighting through the jungles of the South Pacific.
The war had taken a toll on his mind deeper than he could consciously realize. And perhaps that was why he hesitated to take a step forward and open the doors, even as the palace guards stood by, acting as if they did not notice their Prince's abnormal behavior.
They did not judge him. Nor did they dare to look at him in any way that acknowledged his struggle.
