CH261 · Rewrite
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Chapter 261: Gifts

After dinner, Nightingale returned to the bedroom carrying the unopened box in both hands. Lightning, Maggie, Lily, and Mystery Moon filed in after her, every pair of eyes fixed on the box.

“Well?” Wendy couldn’t resist. “Don’t you want to see what’s inside?”

Three of the four nodded vigorously. Lily was the exception.

“His Highness is completely biased!” Lightning muttered. “First he won’t let us taste the wine, and now no gift!”

“He said it was only for the adult witches,” Lily sighed. “When you’re old enough, just ask him yourself. And I’m not interested in whatever fabric is inside — why did you drag me over here?”

“Hey,” Mystery Moon said, blinking at her. “I just called you. Nobody dragged anyone.”

“I —”

“That’s not the point!” Lightning cut in. “Mystery Moon is already of age. So is Maggie. And they didn’t get one either.”

“That’s right, goo!” Maggie shoved the white hair out of her face and raised her chin in protest. “I also didn’t get one, goo!”

“His Royal Highness surely has his reasons.” Nightingale said it more to convince herself than anyone else. Roland had never treated anyone differently before — why start now? “Let’s just look at what’s inside.”

She opened the box.

Inside lay a strange piece of “clothing” — really more like a few bands and two small pouches, sewn together. The silk was the finest grade, impossibly soft against her fingers. But no matter how she turned it, she couldn’t parse its shape. It was simply too small.

“There’s a piece of paper underneath it,” Lightning said suddenly.

Nightingale unfolded the sheet. It contained a description, a list of purposes, and a diagram demonstrating the item’s use.

“Uh…” Wendy, who had opened her own box beside the bed, read aloud in confusion: “This thing is called a bra?

“…it brings relief to the chest by reducing its weight; promotes blood circulation; stabilizes posture; lessens discomfort from friction to the skin.” Nightingale’s voice grew smaller with each clause. Her cheeks went hot. This thing is used to hold the chest? She couldn’t stop herself from glancing at Wendy — and found every other pair of eyes had moved in the same direction at the same moment. A collective understanding settled over the room.

“Pfft.” Lily’s composure cracked entirely. “Now you understand why you didn’t get one, yes? Tsk. Even if Lightning fully grew up, she might still never receive a gift.”

“The same seems to apply to you,” Mystery Moon observed, eyes wide and wandering.

“I don’t want it anyway,” Lily said, looking elsewhere with elaborate indifference.

Only Lightning seemed genuinely unmoved — not embarrassed, only fascinated, staring at the bra with open envy. “It’s like a fitted corset, isn’t it? Can you put it on so I can see?”

“Absolutely not.” Wendy’s rarely seen embarrassment surfaced all at once. She herded them toward the door, and only after the four had gone did she exhale. “How is it that His Highness suddenly… presented us with this?”

Thinking about it, Nightingale felt the warmth in her face again. Simple personal clothing would have been one thing — they had always retrieved such things from the castle without ceremony. But these had been made in different sizes. Which meant that before Roland had prepared the gifts, he had observed each person carefully. The thought made her want to step into her fog and disappear.

She paused.

What about Anna?

“I’ll be back in a moment,” she said, then slipped into the grey and passed through the walls.

She hesitated only briefly outside Anna’s bedroom before knocking.

The door opened almost at once. Anna stood in her nightgown, expression unhurried, exactly as she always was. “Is something wrong?”

“I wanted to ask…” Nightingale stepped inside and closed the door behind her. “His Royal Highness sent you a gift as well. What do you think of it?”

“I’m already wearing mine. It’s very convenient.”

The answer caught her completely off guard. “You put it on already?”

“Mm.” Anna nodded. “Do you want to see?”

“No, no — that’s not necessary.” Nightingale waved her off quickly. “I only wanted to ask — doesn’t it seem strange to you?”

“Why?” Anna tilted her head, genuinely puzzled. “His Royal Highness said he wants to promote it, sell it to more people eventually. So we’re testing it first. And it really is quite good.” She patted her chest. “Soft and flexible. The hook at the back means it doesn’t come off accidentally. Much better than layers of undergarments.”

So that’s how it is.

Nightingale released a slow breath. Anna didn’t dwell on the minutiae. She looked at Roland’s purpose, fixed her attention there, and moved forward. That was what made her who she was — pure and undeflected. Since it was a gift from Roland, of course she would wear it. There was no reason for self-consciousness. And if it had been Anna standing in that corridor just now, she would have knocked without hesitation and said exactly what she thought.

I should have been the same.

Nightingale went back to her room, picked up the bra, and studied it for a while. Then she retreated into her fog and put it on, concealed within the grey — before emerging again, dressed in her usual outer clothing, and finding Wendy.

“It’s a little big,” she said, testing the fit with a small jump. “But it’s genuinely comfortable. Not rough at all — those cloth bands I used to bind around my chest would always leave marks. This doesn’t shift when I move.” She tilted her head toward Wendy. “You should try it.”

“No, I don’t need —”

“Of course you do.” Nightingale laughed, and pulled Wendy into the fog before she could finish.

“I always felt it was because of you,” she said quietly, in the grey, “that His Highness designed this.”


Sylvie was fairly certain she had seen more astonishing things today than in the past several years combined.

The pipe that released water at the pull of a lever. The soap that left behind a clean, faintly sweet smell. The drink that set the throat on fire — and had Evelyn satisfied her entire obligation simply by sitting with His Highness and sharing three cups of wine?

But nothing compared to the gifts distributed after dinner.

She understood, in a vague way, that nobles sometimes sent corsets as a gesture of intimacy — though they were usually paired with a full dress. Gifting only this, by itself, was something reserved for people one was very close to. Lovers, for instance.

And yet His Highness had said, quite plainly, that he intended to sell it to the general public. To spread it across the entire Western Territory. Sylvie felt a prickle of gooseflesh move across her arms. What kind of noble runs that sort of business? Does he have some unusual interest in—

She stopped that thought before it finished.

In the foggy haze near the bedside, two blurred shapes moved — Nightingale and Wendy, still enclosed in the grey. They hadn’t come out. The coaxing had evidently worked.

And the other witches who had received nothing — did none of them understand what it meant to be given personal clothing?

Sylvie recalled Ashes’ warning.

She was right. His Highness was a dangerous person. Better, if at all possible, to maintain a careful distance.

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