Outside, Agatha looked to be calm and silent as she waited for the two n to co out. It had been half an hour since the door to the room closed, and no change appeared on her face. However, inwardly, she was actually screaming and pulling her hair out of frustration. The eyes of her knights and the king's royal soldiers pinned at her were the only thing stopping her in doing it for real.
Deep inside, she really hated how Holon's supre ruler suddenly went off the script, grabbing the target she wanted to nail on the cross for a talk instead of decreeing his death.
Why? What had gone wrong? What suddenly had gone into the king's head?
Several minutes later, when her patience and calmness wore out, she could no longer help but blurt out her worries, "Will His Majesty be alright, being left alone with that blaspher? That Jas uses dark arts and I'm worried that he will use them against His Majesty. Can't we really break-in?"
The knights and servants surrounding her all began to comfort her. "Don't worry much, Your Highness. The king is one of the strongest fighters in the kingdom and is blessed by the Pope of The Church of Combat. His light is with him and will help him triumph against all dark magicians."
The rest said sothing similar that did not truly make her mood better. They were all doing their best to dean the forces and power of the believers of the Fallen Angels without knowing that the royal consort was actually one of those believers.
Agatha paced here and there before facing the burly captain of the knights and throwing a question again, "Why did His Majesty choose to speak with that blaspher? I don't get it. He could have just ordered you all to send him to the dungeon or the Ministry of Justice. So why?"
This ti, nobody could answer her. None of them could think of any reason or dare to say their opinion since it would an questioning the king's decision and authority.
The royal consort saw that everyone had lowered their heads with no desire to et her stare and it made her so depressed. She was also still very anxious since she actually had no idea how powerful the youth really was. What if that teenage boy was already hurting her king? Agatha was a woman with twisted morals, but she genuinely cares for Francis. Now that she thought about that possibility, she was starting to regret it. 'I should have just shut up and endured'
Her thoughts were showing in her face and those secretly peeking at her were in awe of her devotion to the monarch. Yet they were also puzzled why she was acting like the young man could do harm to the king.
"Since the boy is badly scared off by the Church of Wisdom and had to flee from Borley, he should be a weakling, no?" the majority thought to themselves.
"Your Highness. Prince Benedict from the Borley Kingdom wanted to speak with you," said one of the magicians.
Agatha's train of thoughts was broken and she looked at the aged sorcerer with a frown. "Why is that person seeking ?"
"I'm sorry, milady. He's asking to speak with you to request to see the blaspher. It seems our operation has leaked sohow and the Borleans' second prince ca to hear about it. "
'Oh? I wonder which imbecile betrayed us, huh' she thought in exasperation.
"Put him through to then." A cold expression erged on the villainess' face as she ordered the magicians to lead her to a vacant room.
In the forr observatory tower, Margarette had no clue that her father went to see Jiang Li. She was kind of isolated from her people right now since she was in the basent of the tower, walking down the hallway that would connect her to another realm.
Her spies and guards in the mansion area had been knocked out long before they could take a glimpse of the knights, much less of the king and the consort. The whole matter had just no way of reaching her ears. Because of this, she didn't know that her father was looking for her, aware that her soul was inhabiting another person's body.
But actually, even if she heard about this all, she wouldn't turn back as she was currently on her way to et the enigmatic witch who guided her in her practice of witchcraft - the real reason why she had her mories of the past life.
"Welco and I'm glad to see you again, Margarette," said a woman wearing a hooded violet robe looking like a dium with several silver accessories on her wrists, fingers, and neck.
The woman in violet was the only one in the small do-like greenhouse that appeared at the end of the hallway. She was in the middle of the garden that had no other lamp or any other type of illumination apart from the thousands of fireflies lingering there. With a slight smile, she comnted to the dumbfounded girl, "How have you been? I'm truly amazed that you managed to get past all the tests I scattered in the city and find in just a month. You have made quite proud, my lovely student."
Looking embarrassed and shy, Margarette bowed slightly to the woman seated at a table that had a bronze candle holder on top of it.
"I don't deserve the complint, but I won't deny that it makes happy." The girl responded. "I'm also glad to finally see you too in person, dearest ntor."
She was genuinely happy to co here and see the woman. It was the first ti, after all. Before, since she was little, the other had only expounded knowledge or extended help to her from the shadows, giving her no opportunity to see what her powerful master looked like. Now that she was finally given a chance, of course, she felt moved. Her ntor even showed her a srizing scene, a live work of art, that made all the troubles in locating her worth it.
However, she was still as careful as ever, checking out the place for danger despite knowing the woman wouldn't harm her. That was when her eyes briefly scanned the candle atop the table there that was burning with blue flas and emitting a pleasant floral sll.
'It has a scent that is from a rare mix of herbs and essential oils.' A piece of mory surfaced in her mind, an image that didn't belong to her, but Aliyah.
Before the soul of that woman with multiple personalities arrived in Marian's body, Marian had first sought out a mystic, a believer of Armamos, God of Mystery and Enchantnt, in hopes of unlocking her sealed mories and speaking with her deceased brother.
However, due to so man-made accident, none of Marian's two objectives was completed and she herself, had seemingly forgotten about it after becoming the Duchess. When Aliyah transmigrated into the body amidst the ceremony, all she uncovered were two images, one, the cover of the book depicting Marian's fictional story, the other, a mural of seven angels.
"Teacher, are you the dium who perford the rituals for Marian before the body swap?"
Margarette's eyes widened in disbelief of the coincidence. As the scene was quite embarrassing to her, she was half-doubting the images she retrieved from Aliyah's mory.
However, contrary to the girl, no sign of embarrassnt could be seen from the woman's face. Sitting with her clasped hands at the table, the dium batted her dark eyes that could seemingly suck souls in them and admitted, "Right. It is indeed I. Why? Are you having difficulty relating to that dium? I look the sa though, and I said 'I'm glad to see you again' about a minute ago.
Margarette approached the violet-robed woman, and she resembled no princess or comrce queen as she awkwardly looked away from the other lady. "I'm sorry, teacher. I was just shocked to learn I have t you before, and that you are a magician of"
"Of an orthodox god?" The dium smiled, perfectly aware that the princess was wondering whether she was a real believer of the God of Mystery, or a faker and spy whose faith was still in one of the Fallen Angels.
The dium pointed her hand on the simple wooden chair across hers. "Before anything else, you take a seat, Margarette. We have the whole night to talk about , and the happenstances in the continent"
"I think it will take a long while for my son and your husband to co"
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