CH465 · Rewrite
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Chapter 465: Inner Peace and Disturbance

Top-grade black tea from the City of Glow, and the castle hall quiet enough to hear the kettle.

Wendy lifted it from the pot hook, poured the boiled water into the cup, and watched the surface shift from clear to a transparent amber as the steam rose. The smell arrived first—mellow, with something almost floral underneath—and then the warmth against her palms through the porcelain. She blew on it. Waited. Took a small sip.

Slightly bitter at the start. Then a clean sweetness that spread across her tongue and didn’t hurry. When the warmth reached her abdomen she let out a long, involuntary sound of contentment that she didn’t bother to feel embarrassed about.

Across the hall, Paper was still working with the Sigil of God’s Will. She had mastered the basic technique—injecting magic power into the sigil, controlling the output’s volume—but no matter how she adjusted her approach, only the first magic stone would light. The second stayed dark.

“Watching her, I keep thinking of the Witch Cooperation Association,” Scroll said softly. “None of us believed then that we’d ever live like this.”

“If we’d been able to foresee it, Cara wouldn’t have pushed so hard.” Wendy set her cup down. “That’s the only consolation—the witches who come after us won’t have to carry what we carried.” She smiled. “We’re probably the last generation who had to suffer through it.”

“Also the oldest, which means we enjoy the least number of good days.” Scroll pressed a hand to her forehead with theatrical despondency. “I believe we drew the worst lot.”

“Is that why you came back early today? To squeeze out a little more leisure time?”

“I came back after completing my duties.” The shrug was precise. “His Highness is away, so the workload is lighter than usual. I’ll admit I’m not entirely accustomed to it.”

“When he returns,” Wendy said with great serenity, “I’ll relay that to him word for word.”

“In that case, I can’t promise you’ll understand every question on the next examination.”

“You two.” Spear shook her head, laughing at some private frequency that the exchange had reached. “I’ve never had that kind of relationship with anyone—not even close to it. You’re among the most fortunate witches I’ve met.”

“That goes without saying.” Scroll took a long sip of tea. “Not every witch has a father who passes on everything he knows—even among the noble, it’s rare.”

Wendy looked across at Spear. “I’ve heard you’ve been visiting the City Hall whenever you’re free. How is it?”

“Instructive.” Spear exhaled slowly, the word carrying genuine weight. “I’ve never seen a departmental management system so well-ordered—each department clearly bounded and yet tightly coordinated. The City Hall handles hiring and compensation centrally rather than leaving it to individual ministers. Which means replacing personnel is simpler, and capable citizens can enter public service without needing a connection to a noble. I genuinely have no idea how His Highness conceived it.”

“She also had a very nice long chat with Barov,” Scroll observed.

“He was consulting me about questions related to noble law, which I happen to understand well.” Spear set her cup down with measured precision. “And the new laws His Highness has laid down are worth examining. Some of them could be implemented in Fallen Dragon Ridge. Barov and I discussed that for a while.”

“How are they unique?”

“The citizenship definition alone is—”

“Sister Wendy!” Paper appeared at Wendy’s elbow, Sigil of God’s Will held aloft. “When will I be able to light the second stone?”

Wendy looked at the sigil, then at Paper’s upturned face. “When you’re a little older.” She reached out. “Come here.”

Paper took her hand and climbed into her lap without ceremony. Wendy rested her hand on the girl’s hair and listened to Scroll and Spear continue debating the new laws, and felt the particular stillness that comes not from nothing happening but from everything being, for the moment, exactly what it should be.

If this could last forever.

The thought arrived and then passed, as such thoughts do—acknowledged, held briefly, released.


The guard paused at the hall entrance. He scanned the room with a slight hesitation before approaching.

“Something happened?” Wendy recognized him—one of His Highness’s personal guards.

“Lady Wendy.” He made a salute. “Someone has arrived at the gate. A woman who says her daughter has just been awakened as a witch.” He paused. “His Highness specified that in his absence, these matters fall to you.”

The three witches looked at one another.

“A new awakened witch?”

“That’s what she said.”

“Take me to her,” Wendy said, and was already standing.


Two people waited at the main gate in the cold wind.

The elder was perhaps forty, though the years had packed tightly—half-white hair, deep creases across her forehead, a coat worn soft from long use, shoulders slightly curved as if against a weight that never quite lifted. Beside her stood a young woman of seventeen or eighteen, reservedly upright, eyes down.

“This is Lady Wendy of the Witch Union,” the guard said.

Both visitors bowed.

“They came from the Southern Territory,” the guard continued, “and moved into the inner city residential district about half a month ago. I verified their identity cards—everything matches.”

Wendy looked at the younger woman. She kept her voice as gentle as she could make it. “You’re the witch? What’s your name?”

The elder woman touched the girl’s sleeve. A small prompt.

“Summer,” the girl murmured.

“And you’re her mother?”

“Yes, yes.” The elder nodded quickly. “Her father is still working at the Furnace Area, so I brought her. Lady Wendy—” she hesitated, then committed— “Is it true what His Highness posted on the bulletin? That witches receive one gold royal a month?”

“It’s true. But she would need to join the Witch Union willingly.”

Summer opened her mouth—

And then stopped, whatever she had been about to say retreating back behind her teeth.

“Let’s go inside,” Wendy said gently. “The wind is too sharp here.”

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