Chapter 1019: The Secrets of the Witches

When Honey arrived in the office she went straight to the desk and examined it with the focused attention of someone trying to determine whether it was hiding something.

“Is there something about this table?” Roland asked.

She bent low, ran a finger along the edge, then straightened. “Do you keep valuable things inside? Or does it have some other function—like heating up at night?”

“It’s a desk.” He tried not to laugh. “There’s nothing inside but documents and letters.”

“Really?” She pressed her ear briefly to the surface, apparently listening. “Then why does Sister Nightingale lean over it every night for so long?”

A brief silence descended on the room with the weight of a stone.

Roland and Wendy stared. Nightingale rose from the couch in a single movement.

“Grayhair showed me,” Honey said, turning to face the room with perfect calm. “I was training it, and it couldn’t describe things in words—only actions. So it demonstrated. Sister Nightingale sits in your chair when no one is around and rests her face on the table, like—”

Nightingale covered her mouth with both hands.

“I was tired,” came out somewhat muffled through the palms. “I leaned on the desk. The bird clearly misunderstood the situation. Obviously a bird can’t know what—”

“Grayhair is an owl,” Honey said.

The silence lasted a little longer this time.

“Grayhair may not have seen clearly,” Roland said, with the steadiness of a man walking carefully across very thin ice. “It’s dark at night.”

“But owls—”

He looked at Nightingale, who had turned the color of autumn apples and was backing away from Honey with all the dignity she could manage. “I’m sure there was a misunderstanding,” he said, with enough finality to make it a full stop. “We’ll take that as settled.”

Nightingale gave Honey a look that had several layers, then vanished into the Mist. She would not be surfacing again for some time.

Honey looked at where she had been, processed this, and moved on. “Understood. By the way—if the desk could heat up, I’d want one.”

“There’s a heating system in both the castle and the Witch Building.”

“Not in the garden.” She straightened and rested her hands loosely at her sides—an unconscious gesture, as if settling into the conversation. “When Sister Leaf is away, the garden gets cold. Grayhair and the others stop wanting to move. I was worried about them catching cold, so I built a platform under the olive tree and slept there with them.” She paused. “If the desk could generate heat, they’d be more comfortable.”

Roland looked at the feathers caught in her soft curly hair, distributed like debris from a small nest that had recently survived a wind. He realized he had been negligent. The Animal Messengers were trained to fly through any weather, but that didn’t mean it was reasonable to ask them to do so in the middle of the Months of Demons. A natural animal adapts to the wild by necessity; a trained one, kept for a different purpose, deserved better management.

“I can have a heated brick platform built in the garden,” he said. “Roughly bed-sized. All your animals can sleep on it. Would that help?”

Honey’s eyes lit up. “Really? Thank you!”

“Not at all. But I’m curious—you actually talk to them? Have conversations?”

She rubbed the back of her head. “Not really conversations. Most animals can’t speak, like Sister Nightingale said—they can only imitate what they’ve seen. I often can’t tell what they’re trying to show me. So it’s not a real exchange.” A pause. “But I understand them better than anyone else does.”

“I see.” The magic gives the birds the capacity to follow orders without giving them human thought. He turned it over. “What if you asked them to look for specific kinds of events—unusual things—and then indicate the direction to you?”

“Unusual things?” Honey considered. “You mean like how Sister Wendy and Scroll often meet on the balcony to drink and sing, when they’re drunk?”

Roland blinked. He turned to Wendy.

Wendy, who was gentle and warm and the head of the Witch Union, put her hand over her eyes.

“I’ve never heard this,” Roland said carefully.

“They usually meet when you’re out,” Honey explained. “And only when Sister Nightingale is away, so they can drink her supply without her noticing. It’s not just singing, either—Greentail told me they sometimes talk about you—”

Wendy’s hand shot out and covered Honey’s mouth.

“I was happy for Your Majesty’s accomplishments,” she said firmly. “That’s all. And she said the animals can’t actually speak, so how would a bird understand the substance of—”

“Greentail is a parrot,” Honey said into the palm.

The silence was the kind that had given up trying to be anything else.

“That qualifies,” Roland said. He had to work to keep his voice even. “You’re exactly right for this role.”

“What role?” Honey asked, genuinely confused.

“Wait, Your Majesty,” Wendy said. “Now that I think about it, perhaps she’s not the most appropriate choice for a position at the Ministry of—”

“All articles are reviewed before publication,” Roland said. “The newspaper covers public events. There won’t be many stories about the witches. And ordinary citizens can’t enter the Castle District—so the privacy concerns are limited.” He looked at Honey, who was watching him with wide expectant eyes. “Her Animal Messengers are the only network that can gather information from across the whole country as it happens. She’s the right person.”

“Your Majesty,” Honey said, hand raised with patient insistence. “What exactly are you talking about?”

“Something interesting.” He gestured to the chair across from him. “Come here and I’ll explain.”

The newspaper infrastructure was already taking shape in his head: Barov for the administrative framework and printing logistics; himself as minister, at least initially; Honey as the information-gathering center; a review process before anything was printed.

The paper supply was manageable—papermaking craftsmen already among the migrant population, the commercial cities providing existing models to work from. Printing was even simpler. What the whole system required, more than anything, was a reliable process for finding and writing the news. That took people.

He would work out the staffing with Barov.

Once a week to start. Neverwinter first, then broader. Major events, city news, ordinary life—the kind of content that gave people something credible to discuss in the evenings, something that could crowd out the rumors spreading from table six of every tavern in the kingdom.

But those were concerns for tomorrow.

Right now he had a more pressing curiosity. Since he would be the minister, he could call Honey in separately and ask her the questions that had gone unfinished today. In a private setting, without anyone’s hand available to stop her mid-sentence.

What exactly did Wendy and Scroll say to each other, when they were drunk?

He found that he genuinely needed to know.

Chapter 1019: The Secrets of the Witches

Translator: TransN Editor: TransN

When Honey was summoned to the office, she was apparently very glad. Once she entered the office, she examined the mahogany table very carefully, as if she wanted to look through it.

“What’s wrong?” Roland curiously asked, “Is there something about this table?”

“Do you put precious things inside?” Honey even sniffed at the table and asked, “Or does it maybe have some other functions, such as automatically heating up at night?”

“How could it…” he could not help laughing, “This is just an ordinary table. There is nothing but documents and official letters inside.”

“Oh, really?” said Honey suspiciously. “Then why does Sister Nightingale bend over it for a long time every night?”

“Wait, what?” Roland and Wendy were stunned, while Nightingale immediately leaped up from the couch.

“Grayhair told me so when I trained it, although it could only express it with its actions.” Honey replied seriously, “Sister Nightingale always sits in your place when nobody is around and leans her face on the table— Em—”

Before she could finish her words, Nightingale already jumped forward and covered her mouth tightly. “I, I was just a bit sleepy and leaned on the table for a while! How could a, a bird know what I was doing? You must have got it wrong!”

Wendy put her hand on the forehead, speechless.

“Ahem,” Roland coughed and said. “Maybe Grayhair did not see it clearly? After all, it is very dark in the night…”

Honey mumbled in Nightingale’s palm, “But Grayhair is an owl.”

There was a brief silence in the office.

“Anyway, you should be mistaken,” Roland cleared his throat and waved his hand at Nightingale who blushed at Honey’s words. The latter stamped and disappeared into the Mist.

It seems that she will not show up for some time again.

“Really? I got it.” Honey did not continue to ask, “If the table could heat up, I would have wanted one.”

“Why?” asked Roland, raising his eyebrows, “Isn’t there a heating system in both the Castle and the Witch Building?”

“But not in the garden. When Sister Leaf is away, it’s very cold there. Grayhair and other birds have been unwilling to move as of lately. I was afraid that they would catch a cold, so I built a platform under the olive tree and slept with them in my arms. If the table could heat up, they’d be more comfortable.”

“Is that why she was so interested in the table?” thought Roland. He noticed that there were several feathers on Honey’s soft curly hair which looked like a disheveled nest at first glance. He realized that he had indeed ignored the living environment of the Animal Messengers. He thought that they had the ability to adapt to nature but ignored the fact that it violated natural rules to have them fly in the wind and snow during the Months of Demons.

“Although the table can’t give out heat, I can have people build a heated brick bed in the garden, ” he laughed and gestured, “It’ll be almost as large as a bed, so you can get all the animals you train to sleep on it. How about it?”

“Really?” Honey’s eyes lighted up, “Thank you!”

“It’s nothing, but can you really talk to them?”

Honey rubbed her head shyly, “In fact, as Sister Nightingale said, most animals can’t speak, so they can only use simple actions to imitate what they see. I often fail to guess what they mean, so it can’t be counted as a real conversation.”

“I see, ” thought Roland, “although the magic power can make trained birds and beasts follow Honey’s orders, it can’t endow them with human-like intelligence and transform them into another species.” He asked, “What if you order them to look for anecdotes and then indicate directions to you?”

“Anecdotes?”

Honey pondered for a while. While Roland was thinking how to explain the word “news”, she suddenly asked, “Sister Wendy and Scroll often get together to drink and sing on the balcony once they get drunk. Is that an anecdote?”

“I’ve never heard of it.” Roland was surprised. Wendy, as the head of the Witch Union, was gentle and warm as a spring breeze. As the Minister of Education and the teacher of primary courses for witches, Scroll was patient and full of intellectual beauty. She might not smile often, but she was concerned about every sister in the Union. It is difficult for him to imagine the scene of the time when they were drunk, and more than once, according to what Honey said. He could not help asking, “Why have I never heard them sing?”

“Because they generally meet when you’re out. After all, only when Sister Nightingale is away, they can easily drink her beverage.” Honey said, “They’re not just singing. Greentail tells me that they sometimes talk about you— Em—”

This time it was Wendy who covered her mouth and explained, “I was only ha-happy for Your Majesty’s achievements. What’s more, she said that the

bird can’t speak, so how could they understand what we were talking about? ”

“Greentail is a parrot…” Honey mumbled.

Seeing that everyone was falling into silence again, Roland quickly changed the topic and said, “Well, that is indeed an unusual anecdote. You’re qualified.”

“Qualified?” she asked confused.

“Wait, Your Majesty. I suddenly feel that it might be inappropriate for her to serve as the core member of the Ministry of Public Relations and Communications…” Wendy said, coughing.

“Don’t worry. All articles are ultimately released only once they’re reviewed. The newspaper will mainly about the public events. There won’t be too much about the witches.” Roland made the final decision, “In addition, common people can’t enter the Castle District, so you can rest assured. After all, only her Animal Messengers can quickly get news from all over the country.”

“Your Majesty, may I know what on earth you’re talking about?” Honey shouted while raising her hand.

“Of course,” Roland tried to suppress his smile. “It’s a very interesting job. Come here and I’ll explain it to you in detail.”

With the news center and the newspaper printing technology, the next step is to recruit hands and establish an interview-writing system. Barov is undoubtedly the most appropriate one for the job. As for the position of the minister, Roland decided to take the position himself.

Taking into account the degree of acceptance of people, the newspapers would be issued only in Neverwinter once a week. In addition to the major events that take place in various locations, there would also be sections that would record non-governmental news and trivial things of life. With the official background of the City Hall, Roland believed that before long the

newspaper would be the most credible channel of publicity, which would greatly improve the current lack of publicity. At the same time, it would also provide a wealth of talks for the public in the taverns as to squeeze the rumors out the market.

However, these were just official records. What Roland was more interested in were the words Honey had not finished.

Of course, he does not have to be in a rush. Since he would be the minister, he could summon Honey alone and ask her about the hidden anecdotes. For instance, what did Wendy and Scroll say when they were drunk?

He was really curious about it.