“You’d expect no less from someone who could summon you, wouldn’t you?” 

Lette couldn’t hold back her laughter.

After the founding of Carden, Lette roamed the continent until Helia called for her. She played pranks on those who still believed her to be a saint and tormented bandits she encountered in the mountains. For the first time, she understood true freedom—the vibrant clarity of life unburdened by chains.

Yet Lette returned. She willingly planted her roots in this place, vowing to make it her final resting ground. The reason was simple: her lord had called for her. That alone was reason enough.

“I do think perceptions of witches are improving,” Lette said.

Helia raised a brow, inviting her to elaborate.

“Remember when Hernie was dispatched to the Imperial Palace to cast a protective spell? The strict old men of the Empire wouldn’t allow her to use magic, so she had to travel by carriage. Frustrated, she opened the curtains, only to find children trailing after the carriage,” Lette recounted with a soft smile.

“Normally, the parents would have hidden their children away.”

“Exactly! But then she made eye contact with the kids, and guess what? They waved at her!“

Lette’s lively tone carried an unmistakable joy, and Helia listened with interest. For Helia, the story mattered less than seeing Lette genuinely enjoy herself.

As the leader of the witches, effectively becoming the Tower Master, Lette deliberated on changing the public perception of witches. Having once lived as a saintess, she yearned to approach people with warmth and friendliness. However, it was Helia who stopped her.

“Rather than becoming something familiar, aim to be something fearsome. Rather than being seen as benevolent, become awe-inspiring.”

“If we do that, witches will never be able to coexist with people. I don’t want that.”

“No, even so, people will want to live alongside witches.”

“…Do you really think so?”

“Yes. I’ll make it happen.”

“But…”

“The key is to make people believe that coexisting with witches isn’t their choice—it’s yours. Don’t give them options. You must hold the reins.”

Lette, who had no intention of defying Helia, ultimately followed her advice. Still, she was secretly anxious—afraid that witches would remain forever alienated, like impurities that couldn’t mix, and that the world would always view them with hostility.

Yet now, even though it wasn’t in the direction she’d initially hoped, witches were slowly integrating into the world. Not as quickly as she might have wished, but step by step. They were becoming figures both distant and intriguing, mysterious yet approachable. Seeing the contempt in people’s eyes gradually replaced by wonder, Lette was beginning to realize her sovereign had been proper.

Helia understood Lette’s worries but couldn’t fully empathize. Their natures were simply too different. While Lette had become a skeptic throughout her life as a false saintess, she was innately a people person. Her vivacious, positive, and spirited personality made it hard to imagine how she’d ever maintained the poised and serene demeanor of a saintess. For her, consciously distancing herself from people and instilling fear was no easy feat. But as the leader of the witches, it was a burden she had to bear.

And now, here they were. Lette, staying true to her role despite her discomfort, felt like a figure Helia couldn’t help but admire.

“Hmm?”

As Lette animatedly shared her story, a butterfly suddenly fluttered into their line of sight, weaving through the space between them. Its wings emitted a soft, golden glow.

“It’s Vivian!”

Lette jumped to her feet, excitement radiating from her. As she extended her hand, the butterfly gently alighted on her finger. With a delicate flutter of its wings, a cascade of luminous dust shimmered in the air. The particles coalesced on the table, slowly revealing a letter written by Vivian.

“Thank you,“ Lette said. The butterfly circled her hand several times as if acknowledging her gratitude before flitting off into the sky.

Meanwhile, Helia had already picked up the letter and begun reading.

“What does it say?“

“See for yourself.”

Helia handed the letter to Lette, who began reading it aloud.

“To my dearest two, by the time this letter reaches you, I’ll be in the Hornah Forest…”

The letter wasn’t long. Vivian, who had spent several months by the shores of Lake Jabe, had decided to resume her travels. She wrote about how the villagers who had initially been wary of her were now profoundly saddened by her departure. Experiencing this shift in attitude toward witches had brought her immense joy during her journey.

The cheerful news, carried by Lette’s spirited voice, infused the afternoon air with a gentle warmth and vibrancy. When the reading ended, Helia made a light comment.

“Good news.“

“Seems like she’s doing well.“

“Indeed. That’s a relief.”

Vivian was the only witch who had chosen not to remain in the Tower. She had declared that she wanted to explore the world as much as she had once confined herself to her room. Her bold decision had taken everyone by surprise. No one had expected the most timid of them to dream of traveling the world.

“By now, Miel must be reading her letter, too.“

“Perhaps crying somewhere.“

“Miel only gets emotional when it’s about her sister.”

Of all people, Miel had been the most shocked by Vivian’s declaration. Having spent her life protecting her, she had never imagined Vivian harboring such aspirations. At the same time, knowing her sister’s gentle nature, Miel worried Vivian might encounter harm or hardships she couldn’t endure. Yet she also couldn’t help but feel proud of her sister’s newfound resolve, so much so that she’d lost sleep for days, overwhelmed by a mixture of pride and worry.

Ultimately, Miel assigned a few skilled guild members to accompany Vivian, ensuring her safety. Naturally, they agreed to maintain regular contact.

“I should go.“

“To Miel?“

“Yes. She’ll need some comforting.“

“You’re not going just to tease her, are you?”

Lette asked playfully, her tone mischievous. Helia didn’t respond directly. Instead, she smirked, lifting one corner of her lips in a way that spoke volumes.

“When you smile like that, you seem like the witch people imagine you to be.“

“I’ll take that as the highest compliment.”

The two of them shared a laugh. Their cheerful voices mingled with the tranquil air under the clear sky, creating serene harmony.

***

“What is it?”

Miel asked irritably, looking at Helia standing outside the door. Addressing Her Majesty so bluntly would typically be unthinkable, but no one dared to correct her. Everyone was accustomed to it, knowing that Helia treated Miel with special favor.

Still, Della couldn’t suppress a sharp glare toward Miel. Of course, Miel didn’t pay her the slightest attention.

“I just wanted to see you since our busy Intelligence Chief is in the palace for once.“

“I already reported to you last night.“

“That was last night.”

Helia replied shamelessly. Miel stared at her for a moment, then sighed and stepped aside.

Helia strolled into Miel’s office confidently, befitting someone who technically owned everything in the palace. She casually sat down in Miel’s chair as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“If you’d like to say anything, feel free.“

“If I ask you to leave, will you?“

“Hm. Your eyes seem a little puffy.“

“Perhaps Lady Lette slipped you some hallucinogens. You should dismiss her immediately.”

Miel retorted curtly. Helia chuckled lightly and got to the point.

“If you have nothing to say, I’ll go ahead. There’s a new mission I need you to take on.“

“Suddenly, I do have something to say. May I resign?“

“Denied, of course.”

Their banter continued, toeing the line of propriety with ease. The two were unfazed, but their exchange made the onlookers unnecessarily tense.

“Didn’t you tell me just yesterday to take a break and focus on managing the guild for a while?“

“I did. But something urgent came up.“

“At this rate, I might actually take the guild and disappear.“

Miel’s tone held a hint of genuine threat. But Helia knew full well that Miel wouldn’t act on it. With the Tower under Helia’s jurisdiction, Miel couldn’t sever ties completely—not with her witch sister’s safety at stake.

“Completely at my mercy,“ Helia thought smugly.

Though Miel occasionally regretted surfacing in this world, she knew she would still choose to align with Helia if given the chance again.

“Just hear me out first. Then decide.“

“Do I even have a choice?“

“Possibly?”

Miel let out a long sigh and waited silently for Helia to continue.

“We must investigate if anyone has conspired with Count Leiphir’s successor.“

“I already gave you a list.“

“Not within Cardan’s ranks. I’m talking about those imperial figures who’ve been supporting their slave trade in the shadows.“

“I understand.“

“The Crown Prince seems to be handling this delicately, likely because the faction is influential. He’s even requested our discreet cooperation.“

“He wants us to provide evidence?“

“Exactly. To keep things contained, it’d be best to secure multiple sites simultaneously without leaks.“

“That makes sense.“

“According to the report, their base of operations is in Magister’s territory, correct?”

“Yes, as I mentioned in my report…”

Miel trailed off, falling silent. Helia nodded knowingly.

“I’d like you to handle Magister’s territory personally since it’s their stronghold.“

“…Understood.“

Miel’s calm response elicited a satisfied grin from Helia.

“I hear there’s a beautiful forest near Magister’s territory.“

“Horna Forest.“

“Yes, that’s the one. Incidentally, Lette is curious about Carpe mushrooms, which only grow in that forest. She mentioned they’d be useful for research—be sure to bring some back for her.”

The information about the mushrooms had, of course, come from Vivian. She had written in her letter about her interest in the mushrooms, which supposedly altered one’s voice when consumed, and her desire to study their properties.

Miel knew this as well. The letter would have reached her first since Vivian’s enchanted butterfly always sought out the person she missed most.

“You’re really working me to the bone,“ Miel muttered.

“I’m good at putting people to work,“ Helia replied with a smirk.

Miel shot her a half-hearted glare, though it lacked any actual malice. Helia, unfazed, rose smoothly from her seat, signaling the end of the conversation.

“Don’t think about resting—set off immediately. Drag your feet, and it won’t be fun for you.“

“... There’s nothing more infuriating than being unable to say no to Your Majesty,“ Miel grumbled, bowing her head in reluctant compliance. Helia laughed cheerfully.

“By the way, wasn’t Lord Ruben looking for you?”