The Useless Prince Is A Gangster
Chapter 125. Reunion

Two young girls were walking closely behind a cloaked figure that was approaching with its hood down and steady, sure steps. As the three approached with their swords in hand, the guards’ faces tensed with suspicion. The lead guard moved forward, speaking in a firm but wary tone. "Who are you? Strolling straight to the Duke’s residence?

The figure reached the gate and slowly pulled back his hood, showing Leo’s face. His eyes were darkened with sleepless nights, dark circles deep under them. The guards flinched, stepping back.

Leo’s voice was low, rough with exhaustion. "Can’t I enter my house?"

The guards’ eyes darted to Vivien beside him, her auburn hair glowing in the dawn. Recognition hit like a shock. "Young lord has returned!" the second guard shouted. "Open the gate!" The heavy iron gates creaked open.

Maria sat on the edge of her opulent bed in the duchess’s room, her eyes puffy from six days of unending tears and her face as white as ash. Three days have passed since Leonhardt disappeared to find Vivien, and six days have passed since she was taken.

Her heart ached with every hour of the silence. With silent sobs and whispered prayers for their safety into the empty room, she clutched a small piece of cloth that had been embroidered, a favorite of Vivian’s.

Maria’s head snapped up as the door flew open, her heart pounding and her breath catching. With tears in his eyes and a youthful expression of relief and unadulterated joy, Lucian stood in the doorway, hardly able to stand, clutching the knob to prevent himself from falling.

The cloth slipped from Maria’s unsteady fingers as she stared, her heart racing. The hope she believed was gone was restored when she noticed the light in Lucian’s eyes. His voice was quiet, shaky, but confident. "Brother kept his word, Mother."

Hope flickered like a flame in the darkness as she staggered to her feet, her breath catching and a sob escaping. "Vivien... Leonhardt?" Her voice cracked as she whispered, barely daring to believe.

Lucian nodded, tears falling down his cheeks, a shaky smile breaking through. "They’re back."

The cobblestone path to Caulem Manor’s big entrance shone in the soft gold of dawn. Soldiers, workers, and maids lined both sides, their faces full of respect, their silence heavy with awe. Vivien, once thought lost, walked hand-in-hand with Leo.

The young master they’d once seen as weak now had a quiet strong power that held their eyes. Leo’s steps were heavy, his bandaged fists—raw, unhealed by choice. His red eyes, shadowed with deep tiredness, looked ahead, ignoring the weight of their stares.

Vivien gasped softly, her breath catching as she saw Maria step from the manor’s tall doors.

"Mother!" Vivien cried, voice breaking as tears fell. She pulled free from Leo’s hand, her small body running forward. Maria ran to meet her, dropping to her knees on the cold stone, wrapping Vivien in a tight, trembling hug.

"My Vivien," she sobbed, voice a broken whisper, tears soaking her daughter’s hair. "I thought I’d lost you forever. Oh, my baby, thank the gods you’re safe." Vivien held her tight, sobs muffled against Maria’s chest, her small body shaking from days of fear.

Lucian burst from the manor, voice a choked cry. "Vivien!" He threw himself into the hug, arms around his sister, words spilling out. "You’re back... I was so scared you wouldn’t come home." Maria pulled him close, her sobs growing, the family joined in a fragile, tear-filled circle.

Duke Alric stood at the manor’s entrance, his eyes soft with relief as he watched Vivien, then met Leo’s gaze. A silent question hung in his stare—thanks, worry, and something unspoken, a father’s burden.

Leo’s lips curved into a tired, real smile, his heart lighter seeing Vivien safe with her mother and brother. But the moment passed quickly.

Liana broke from the crowd, her face full of worry as she hurried toward him. "Young Master!" she called, voice cracking with feeling.

Leo braced himself, a weak chuckle escaping as she threw her arms around him, her hug strong and fierce, like she was holding him to the world. "I was so afraid," she cried, words muffled against his torn cloak. "Three days... where were you? What happened?"

"Liana, you’re gonna crush me," Leo said, voice light but strained, tiredness in every word.

She pulled back, flustered, cheeks red as she looked at his battered body, eyes lingering on his bandaged fists. "Are you hurt? Please, tell me you’re alright!"

He shook his head, tone calm but far-off. "I’m fine." His gaze shifted to Lysa, standing close, her small hand gripping his cloak’s edge, her wide eyes trusting only him. "Give this little one a bath," he said, voice gentle but firm. "And make sure she’s fed."

Leo turned to Lysa. "Come on, let’s get inside." She grabbed his arm, grip tight, her steps shy but steady as she stayed close. They moved toward the entrance, passing Vivien, Maria, and Lucian, still locked in their tearful hug.

Alric stepped forward, his gaze dropping to Leo’s bloody bandages, worry carving lines into his face. "Leonhardt," he said, voice low, full of quiet thanks. "Are you alright?"

Leo shook his head lightly, brushing it off. "Yeah," he said, tone short, tiredness dulling his words. He gestured to Lysa. "Her name’s Lysa Threx. Find her family." He paused, voice heavy.

"I have to go to bed." He began to pass, but was stopped by a tremulous, tearful voice.

"Leonhardt."

Leo stopped and slowly turned, his crimson eyes locking with Maria’s. She stood with tears streaming down her face and eyes that were raw with years of deep regret, gratitude, and guilt. She hurried forward, bridging the distance in a heartbeat, and threw her arms around him in a desperate embrace that seemed capable of mending a shattered past.

"I’m so sorry," she sobbed, voice breaking, words pouring out. "I was cruel, heartless. I treated you like you were nothing, and I... I’m the worst mother, the worst person. Thank you, Leonhardt. Thank you for bringing my Vivien back. I don’t deserve you."

Her tears soaked his cloak, her body shaking as she held him, her words a raw confession of years of mistakes.

Leo stood stiff, face blank, feeling nothing. Maria’s words were for Leonhardt.

If Leonhardt had heard her, maybe he could have healed. But for Leo, it was an echo of a life not his, a burden he carried without warmth.

"It’s alright," he said, voice flat, empty of feeling. He gently pulled her arms free, stepping back.

He turned, shrugging off the cult’s torn cloak, letting it fall to the manor’s shiny hall floor. His ripped, blood-crusted undershirt stained dark red with blood. Gasps spread through the crowd, soldiers and maids staring in stunned silence, their awe turning to shock at the sight.