Lauren was taken aback by the unexpected compassion and concern shown by the Queen, a woman of the highest nobility. She sensed a genuine anger emanating from her, causing the queen’s hands to tremble with regret for her earlier deception. It was a type of wrath that Lauren had not seen in a long while.
However, despite feeling grateful towards the queen, Lauren couldn’t give her an affirmative answer. This type of work was meticulously planned and executed. She was merely a tool, and the client was the one in control. She had no decision-making power in the matter.
In addition, if this case were to become public, it would pose a significant problem if anyone recognized her face. Lauren was a renowned figure in her industry, and her involvement in such a case would undoubtedly attract unwanted attention.
“Your Majesty, I’m sorry, but I’m too afraid… I’m just a commoner, and he’s a nobleman… If you could please just let me go home… I appreciate your kindness, but all I want is to return home and forget about this…”
As Iris gazed at the woman’s face, despair twisted her features. She couldn’t help but see her own young face overlaid on the woman’s. Like her, the woman had not fought back despite what she had endured. She had simply run away. Iris knew that feeling all too well, that terrible feeling that she didn’t want to face again.
But she also knew the aftermath of such trauma. She knew the debilitating processes that made it hard for people to face others, to scream, or even to faint. Somehow, she had ended up in someone else’s body and met Sidrian, who had helped her broaden her world. But what if she hadn’t met him? She would still be sitting in the workshop, waiting only for requests from the Mage Tower.
How could anyone tell this woman to be brave? Who would dare to say such a thing to someone who had been buried in a mountain after being frightened to death? Iris smiled, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.
“Okay,” Iris said firmly, hugging the woman tightly despite the dirt and grime. “You can go home now. My knights will escort you. You’ll be safe, I promise.”
Iris shut her eyes tightly, trying to compose herself. When she opened them again, there was no one around to witness the burning intensity of her blue gaze. It was a dangerous glint, fueled by a thirst for revenge.
***
The wizards were a chaotic group, comprised of rioters, fanatics, and opportunists. At 3 in the morning, Iris stood in the center of her workshop, her expression stoic and cold.
For the first time in a while, she illuminated the workshop, boiling water in a pot and gathering her most frequently used beakers. She retrieved four base solutions and boxes containing rare items from the warehouse.
<Why do you look like that, Iris?> Leiden, the eldest house fairy, asked, trembling. Though Iris typically maintained her composure, Leiden knew all too well that when she was truly angry, she had no inhibitions or restraint. Another house fairy beside Leiden raised an important point.
<Why are you barefoot?>
“I had to clean up before coming here,” Iris replied.
To open the portal, they required water, and the only place with enough water for Iris to use was the bathtub. Officially, she was enjoying a leisurely morning bath in the palace. In reality, she was here in her workshop, rummaging through dusty boxes.
Iris appeared to be irritated by her bare feet, so she tightened the waistband of her nightgown and resumed her work.
<That’s a cursed box, Iris,> one of the house fairies warned with a worried expression. They were a tribe that always wished for things to go smoothly, so curses scared them to death.
“Sid was right,” Iris muttered, ignoring the warning.
<Who was right?> Leiden asked.
“Sid. He said that some pasts need to be put to an end.”
<But isn’t the saying ‘don’t look back at the past’ more famous?>
The eight house fairies chimed in with a sweet melody, “Don’t look back at the past. There’s nothing there.” Iris gave them a sharp look and they fell silent.
Leiden hesitated before speaking up again. <But, Iris, are you sure casting a curse is a good idea? Curses always come with a price.>
“Do you think I don’t know that? I know what I’m doing. And if I leave him be, justice will never see the daylight.”
Leiden was taken aback by Iris’s sharp response. He didn’t know what had happened between her and the recipient of the curse, but it was clear that Iris was angry. Despite his reservations, Iris was determined to cast the curse, and Leiden knew better than to argue with her.
Meanwhile, Iris’s hands moved with purpose as she stirred the beaker and poured in the base solution and additives. She had already formulated the curse in her mind and was focused on carrying out the ritual.
“The curse of the Mage Tower never fails,” Iris said, looking at Leiden. “It was true when I was young, and it’s still true now. He won’t live quietly from now on. Do you know what’s just as famous as that saying?”
Iris’s eyes flashed with a terrifying light as she turned to him.
<I don’t know,> Leiden replied
“The law is far, but magic is near,” Iris declared. With the final ingredient added, Iris began casting the incantation in an ancient language.
The morning of reckoning arrived, and Frederick, one of the sons of the Surah family, woke up feeling more refreshed than ever after a night of satisfying his greed by terrorizing another servant. But as he got out of bed, an odd sensation nagged at him, and he instinctively lowered his head to investigate. There, between his legs, was the sausage that Iris had described as “disgustingly unappetizing,” wriggling around and detached from its original position.
A scream pierced the stillness of Frederick’s bedroom in the Sera household, echoing through the halls of the grand estate.
Lauren was taken aback by the unexpected compassion and concern shown by the Queen, a woman of the highest nobility. She sensed a genuine anger emanating from her, causing the queen’s hands to tremble with regret for her earlier deception. It was a type of wrath that Lauren had not seen in a long while.
However, despite feeling grateful towards the queen, Lauren couldn’t give her an affirmative answer. This type of work was meticulously planned and executed. She was merely a tool, and the client was the one in control. She had no decision-making power in the matter.
In addition, if this case were to become public, it would pose a significant problem if anyone recognized her face. Lauren was a renowned figure in her industry, and her involvement in such a case would undoubtedly attract unwanted attention.
“Your Majesty, I’m sorry, but I’m too afraid… I’m just a commoner, and he’s a nobleman… If you could please just let me go home… I appreciate your kindness, but all I want is to return home and forget about this…”
As Iris gazed at the woman’s face, despair twisted her features. She couldn’t help but see her own young face overlaid on the woman’s. Like her, the woman had not fought back despite what she had endured. She had simply run away. Iris knew that feeling all too well, that terrible feeling that she didn’t want to face again.
But she also knew the aftermath of such trauma. She knew the debilitating processes that made it hard for people to face others, to scream, or even to faint. Somehow, she had ended up in someone else’s body and met Sidrian, who had helped her broaden her world. But what if she hadn’t met him? She would still be sitting in the workshop, waiting only for requests from the Mage Tower.
How could anyone tell this woman to be brave? Who would dare to say such a thing to someone who had been buried in a mountain after being frightened to death? Iris smiled, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.
“Okay,” Iris said firmly, hugging the woman tightly despite the dirt and grime. “You can go home now. My knights will escort you. You’ll be safe, I promise.”
Iris shut her eyes tightly, trying to compose herself. When she opened them again, there was no one around to witness the burning intensity of her blue gaze. It was a dangerous glint, fueled by a thirst for revenge.
***
The wizards were a chaotic group, comprised of rioters, fanatics, and opportunists. At 3 in the morning, Iris stood in the center of her workshop, her expression stoic and cold.
For the first time in a while, she illuminated the workshop, boiling water in a pot and gathering her most frequently used beakers. She retrieved four base solutions and boxes containing rare items from the warehouse.
<Why do you look like that, Iris?> Leiden, the eldest house fairy, asked, trembling. Though Iris typically maintained her composure, Leiden knew all too well that when she was truly angry, she had no inhibitions or restraint. Another house fairy beside Leiden raised an important point.
<Why are you barefoot?>
“I had to clean up before coming here,” Iris replied.
To open the portal, they required water, and the only place with enough water for Iris to use was the bathtub. Officially, she was enjoying a leisurely morning bath in the palace. In reality, she was here in her workshop, rummaging through dusty boxes.
Iris appeared to be irritated by her bare feet, so she tightened the waistband of her nightgown and resumed her work.
<That’s a cursed box, Iris,> one of the house fairies warned with a worried expression. They were a tribe that always wished for things to go smoothly, so curses scared them to death.
“Sid was right,” Iris muttered, ignoring the warning.
<Who was right?> Leiden asked.
“Sid. He said that some pasts need to be put to an end.”
<But isn’t the saying ‘don’t look back at the past’ more famous?>
The eight house fairies chimed in with a sweet melody, “Don’t look back at the past. There’s nothing there.” Iris gave them a sharp look and they fell silent.
Leiden hesitated before speaking up again. <But, Iris, are you sure casting a curse is a good idea? Curses always come with a price.>
“Do you think I don’t know that? I know what I’m doing. And if I leave him be, justice will never see the daylight.”
Leiden was taken aback by Iris’s sharp response. He didn’t know what had happened between her and the recipient of the curse, but it was clear that Iris was angry. Despite his reservations, Iris was determined to cast the curse, and Leiden knew better than to argue with her.
Meanwhile, Iris’s hands moved with purpose as she stirred the beaker and poured in the base solution and additives. She had already formulated the curse in her mind and was focused on carrying out the ritual.
“The curse of the Mage Tower never fails,” Iris said, looking at Leiden. “It was true when I was young, and it’s still true now. He won’t live quietly from now on. Do you know what’s just as famous as that saying?”
Iris’s eyes flashed with a terrifying light as she turned to him.
<I don’t know,> Leiden replied
“The law is far, but magic is near,” Iris declared. With the final ingredient added, Iris began casting the incantation in an ancient language.
The morning of reckoning arrived, and Frederick, one of the sons of the Surah family, woke up feeling more refreshed than ever after a night of satisfying his greed by terrorizing another servant. But as he got out of bed, an odd sensation nagged at him, and he instinctively lowered his head to investigate. There, between his legs, was the sausage that Iris had described as “disgustingly unappetizing,” wriggling around and detached from its original position.
A scream pierced the stillness of Frederick’s bedroom in the Sera household, echoing through the halls of the grand estate.
