Outside, a cold wind howled.
Inside the mansion, the crackling of the fire provided a cozy warmth. The temperature was just right, making it comfortable even in a light dress, but the temperature in the council chamber was much lower than the snowy mountains outside.
Agnes rarely came here. Although she bore the name “Fronster,” when did the family’s major decisions ever require her input?
The long table stretched out, its dark wood grain polished until even the smallest scratches were gone. This was because the head of the house decreed that no marks were to be left here.
Agnes stood at one end of the long table, her hands resting naturally at her sides. Binding magic swirled around her, keeping her immobile. Her body showed no abnormal reaction to it, a result of countless calibrations — it neither hindered movement nor allowed for resistance. She knew this well.
A man in robes sat at the opposite end. Baron Fronster held the documents, his movements slow and methodical, as if this were just one of the many routine tasks of his day.
Beside her, Shirley rested her chin on her hands, her expression somber as she remained silent. She had tried her best to sugarcoat the recent events in her report, but how could she hide a structure as large as the glass greenhouse in the courtyard? Baron Fronster had quickly followed the clues and uncovered the truth of what had happened.
Then came the judgment of Agnes.
Agnes knew the outcome before he even spoke. It wasn’t a premonition; she simply knew too well how the family treated a “witch slipping out of control.”
“According to the family’s disciplinary regulations,” the Baron’s voice echoed through the hall, steady, clear, and devoid of emotion, “as of today, all temporary freedom granted to the witch Agnes is revoked.”
A heavy silence followed.
Agnes closed her eyes and lowered her head, remaining silent.
“Shirley Fronster, I am very dissatisfied with your performance during this time. It seems it will still be some time before you are ready to succeed me as the head of the family.”
The Baron’s voice was low and steady, showing no hint of anger. “Starting today, you will resume your studies. Sybil will watch over you in my place.”
“Yes.”
Sybil bowed respectfully. In this house, she was merely a maid; did she have any choice but to obey?
“Given the disorder in the previous oversight process, two guards will be stationed at Agnes’s door. She is not permitted to leave her room without permission.”
He raised his head, his gaze sweeping across the hall. He wasn’t asking for opinions; he was confirming the scope of his orders.
“Any unauthorized contact will be considered a violation, and I will personally carry out the punishment.”
The servants in the chamber bowed to the head of the house in unison.
Several armored guards stepped forward, flanking Agnes by her shoulders. Their movements were well-trained and precise, their boots hitting the floor at the exact same angle.
Agnes did not retreat.
She didn’t even adjust her stance. She simply stood there, listening to each part of her punishment being read aloud, one by one, as if checking off a pre-prepared list.
Seeing this, Shirley stood up in a panic. Her eyes were filled with worry, yet she could only watch helplessly. Agnes did not look back. Under the escort of the two guards, she was led back to her bedroom-turned-prison like a common criminal.
“Acting Head,” the Baron’s gaze fell on Shirley, “let this be the last time.”
His words were brief but sharp.
Shirley slowly closed her eyes. Her father calling her “Acting Head” meant there was no room for negotiation.
“Now, return to your room and resume your studies. Sybil.”
“Yes.”
Sybil bowed slightly and spoke to Shirley. “Miss, let us go.”
“Mhm.”
Shirley’s expression was dark; she couldn’t even manage to say a single word to Agnes.
“If there are no objections,” the Baron closed the document, “this hearing is concluded.”
Of course, there would be no objections. Because this family was his absolute autocracy!
—
After returning to her bedroom, Shirley slammed her hand against the table in frustration. “That damn old fossil!”
“Miss…” Sybil stepped forward, looking worried. “What do we do now?”
“How much of the magic stability potion is left?”
“Only half a bottle. Based on the daily dosage for Her Highness the Princess and the time she can last after stopping the medication, it should last until the second month of spring.”
“So we managed to buy one more month…?”
Shirley paced the room anxiously. She had already simulated the current situation in her mind. She had run through the possibilities earlier that day, yet the reality still exceeded her expectations.
The magic chain controlling Agnes was something she was completely helpless against on her own!
‘No wonder you aren’t afraid of her running away, you old fossil…’
Shirley walked to the wardrobe and took out a magic crystal ball.
“Miss, regardless of everything, the Baron is still your father…”
Shirley knew exactly what Sybil wanted to say.
“Sybil, you must understand one thing.” Shirley cradled the crystal ball, gently stroking it. “Baron Fronster is a staunch supporter of the First Prince’s faction. Since our positions are different, we are bound to clash sooner or later.”
‘Since her rebirth, she hadn’t considered that old man family. In her previous life, if he hadn’t forced Agnes to carry out one grueling subjugation mission after another, she wouldn’t have died, and the family wouldn’t have been destroyed!’
“I see…”
“The top priority now is to ensure the supply of the potion for Princess Rubia, and Agnes is essential for that. Therefore, we need a way to maintain secret communication with her.”
“I can handle that…” Sybil was an expert in infiltration; this task suited her perfectly.
But Shirley shook her head, rejecting the idea. “No, the Baron wants to use you to monitor my actions. Until I come up with a countermeasure, it’s best if you stay by my side most of the time.”
“Furthermore, the guards around Agnes have surely been ordered to watch her around the clock. There might even be a magic detection barrier. We need a more discreet method…”
Her voice grew quieter as she spoke. An image flashed through Shirley’s mind — not of a person, but of a small animal.
“What about that cat Agnes has?”
“Do you want me to take care of it during this time?”
“No, I’ve decided to rescind that order. Sybil, we need every resource we can get right now.”
‘When Agnes first adopted that cat, Shirley had indeed been unhappy. Agnes is supposed to be mine, yet she was occupied by a cat for so long!’
‘Thinking back, those thoughts were quite childish.’
“Tonight, go report the situation to the Princess, and then…”