After checking that Emma had fully drained the glass, Monty placed it on a nearby table. He had kept his word; the liquid would restore her malnourished body. But that wasn’t all it did.

Monty rubbed his chin while ringing a small, brass bell. A sharp and clear tintinnabulation resounded within the lab, calling a mishappen, hunched man into the room.

Paying him no attention, Monty pointed to Emma and said, “Bring her to the House of Thorne. A guest room will do, and bar the door so she won't be able to escape. Clear out all the furniture besides a bed and make sure there’s a bathroom nearby. She can’t be ill-treated.”

The ugly man spat out a “Yes, m’lord” and promptly picked up Emma with ease. Monty watched as the little fiend delicately carried Emma out of the lab, his steps uneven but vigorous. Truly a comical figure.

Monty took off his lab coat and hung it before tidying up the rest of the room. He thoroughly scrubbed the glass cup, as well as the scalpels, syringes, and other apparatuses he used over the past few days. Seeing the familiar red spiral within the sink, Monty couldn’t help but feel nostalgic. It was less than a week ago when his attention had been on scamming the Greyson’s yet now he was unmoved by the contract’s benefits.

Emma’s third rune was incomparable to any subjects the Greyson’s would provide him, given that they wouldn’t renegade the contact. They would certainly cause problems over this, as Monty was sure they were aware of him finding Emma.

But that was in the future, now he had to focus on maintaining the status quo of the House of Thorne until the Union pulled through with their part of the deal. Monty chuckled, imagining his uncle’s red face.

Though Adam Rowen certainly was a formidable figure, being from his mother’s side of the family, he decisively follow Monty’s parents to the Kingdom of Murate and made a name for himself despite not being a noble. Unscrupulous and deceitful, villainy truly ran in the family.

Monty dried his hands and left the lab. It was late at night yet he could sense various gazes observing his actions. Unaffected, Monty continued back to the guard room where the looks disappeared. It seemed they still remembered their limits.

Back in his room, the silver moon shone just outside his window. Monty sighed and opened the door to his balcony, letting in a crisp breeze that caused the curtains to sway gently. The clouds below him were wavy and rolling, their shadows emphasized by the moonlight. It was a magical landscape.

“No wonder they decided to escape here, the scenery is breathtaking.” Thinking of his parents, Monty smiled humorlessly. Villainy truly ran in the family.

He then closed the window and changed into his nightwear. Such serious thoughts were already forgotten by him as he blissfully entered his bed. Lying comfortably, Monty closed his eyes and drifted off into a dreamless slumber.

* * *

Emma woke up half-expecting a glaring white light above her. To her surprise, she was greeted by the charming morning sun filtering in through the room’s windows.

“Where am I?” she wondered, sitting up on the soft bed she had apparently been moved to. Emma found herself in a near-empty room, one lacking any furniture besides a table and her bed. The walls and floor were devoid of any niceties besides a pair of unadorned drapes. It was only the table, or what lay on it, that caught her interest.

Emma’s nose twitched at the smell of fresh pastries. It was then that her stomach rumbled loudly, leading to her jumping out of the bed. On the table lay biscuits and cheese, mozzarella from the looks of it.

After hesitating for just a moment, Emma proceeded to scarf down the breakfast. It was quite generous how she was given cheese as animals were scarce. She smacked her lips loudly after finishing, lacking any form of etiquette. Truly a good meal.

Feeling oddly relaxed, Emma was about to head back to bed when she realized that the biscuit’s plate had been covering a note. She picked it up and began reading the loopy script.

Dear Emma Rott,

I feel deeply saddened by your refusal to work for me despite our close relationship. However, I won’t be blinded by emotion and have decided to give you a second chance. You have three days to decide; do you want to keep your honor or your life.

PS: How do you think I found you?

Emma trembled after finishing the letter and crumpled it in her hand. Breathing heavily, she cursed herself for not questioning how Monty found her so quickly. Even before the Greyson’s, at that.

She didn’t know. And because she didn’t know, she was fearful. Did Silva sell her out? Did he know she would escape? Or did he have a rune that allowed him to track her? None of these options were good and Monty’s implication in the postscript was most frightful of it all.

He was able to find her son.

Emma didn’t know if he was speaking the truth, but he was able to find her with ease so couldn’t he find Durk if he put some effort into it?

“No, no, no,” she thought to herself, “He’s getting to you, he wants you to overthink it. How can he find Durk when he’s so far away. Even if Monty could, the Glacier Plateau is far beyond his influence. He can’t even settle an inheritance dispute, never mind harm Durk it the second most populated plateau after the capital.”

Emma chuckled to herself, a feeling of pride welling up inside her. She nearly had fallen for Monty’s schemes, but she didn’t. He couldn’t command her, and she never would let him. How could she serve a scourge like Monty Thorne?

Now she just had to escape the house and head to the Glacier Plateau. Emma cycled mana through her second rune to strengthen her arms. She could easily break out of this room with her strength. Walking up to the door, she drew back her fist and punched at it.

“Ah!” Emma bellowed, her fist freezing before it could even touch the door. She clawed at her chest, trying to reach her heart. Emma felt a cluster of needles pierce it!

“What happened?!” she cried internally, half in shock and half in pain. Why was her heart getting attacked? Emma fell to the floor, writhing, as the stabs continued mercilessly. It was three minutes later that the pain faded away and a knock followed by a voice originated from her door.

“Miss Emma, I’ve come to take the dishes,” a dry man’s voice said calmly. Emma gritted her teeth and stood up. She waited a minute before opening the door.

Smiling to the servant, she replied dryly, “Please, they are right on the table.”

The servant, a skinny young man of about twenty, bowed in reply and walked to the table. He mechanically picked up the dishes before leaving the room.

Watching him go, Emma wondered who that servant was. He had a ghostly bearing about him. White hair coupled with grey-blue eyes and pale skin; a feeling of illness simply oozed out of him.

“He must be someone of importance, though I haven’t heard of a servant who appears so feeble working in the House of Thorne,” Emma tapped her foot while thinking. By now it was obvious she was imprisoned somewhere in Monty’s manor. What she had to prioritize was a plan of escape.

“But how can I get out of this predicament? This is the House of Thorne, Monty’s territory. To leave easily is wishful thinking,” she frowned pensively. Turning away from the door, Emma’s shoulders drooped.

“He left behind the coaster?” Emma muttered to herself. The small disk was still on the table. Bewildered and slightly amused, Emma walked to the table and lifted it. A small piece of paper lay beneath it.

Startled, she flipped the paper over and read the note. An expression of shock flashed across her face, one that was quickly replaced by a profound light in her eyes.

* * *

Monty was sitting behind his desk when he heard an expected nock from the study’s door.

“Come in.” The door creaked and a sickly young man entered. Not speaking, he drifted to where Monty sat and bowed deeply. Monty nodded in acknowledgment and remarked, “It appears you still haven’t found a method that allows you to speak.”

The young man nodded before gesturing wildly with his hands. The motions were chaotic, but Monty understood their meaning. He moved on to business.

“I assume everything went well. She will definitely read the second note, correct?”

Seeing the young man nod, Monty continued. “Then have someone else attend to her until she makes her decision. You absolutely cannot let her even catch a glimpse of even your shadow. Now just make her three meals a day and the plan will go off without a hitch.”

The young man bowed and left. Monty reclined back in his seat and crossed his feet over his desk. Rubbing his chin, he smiled smugly. “She’s still too young to be scheming against me. If everything goes well, she’ll tell me her answer soon. Having her along with Spirit would increase my confidence a hundred-fold. It’s just a shame Spirit has that rune of his.”

Thinking of the young man who just left, Monty couldn’t help but sigh ruefully. Awakening at the young age of fourteen, Spirit’s talent was at the peak of the Kingdom of Murate. The House of Thorne had held an all-night celebration as Spirit was raised by them from the day he was born.

To coincidentally buy a future powerhouse, how great was that? It was late into the next day when Monty’s mother had taken Spirit to a rune appraiser. Monty still remembered the look on her face when she came back. Utter disappointment with a hint of envy; there was no other way to describe it.

Spirit was indeed talented, his first rune falling into the unique category with an astounding 239 glyphs, 17 more than Duality. However, he was also unlucky. The rune simply had drawbacks that were too severe.

The Rune of the Souls, that was the rune’s name and in turn Spirit’s name. After finding out the rune’s effects, the House of Thorne had immediately ordered a lock-down on all information related to Spirit, even imprisoning the rune appraiser that they hired.

It was necessary, as Spirit could communicate with and possess the dead.

Reminiscing of the past, Monty ran his hand through his hair. Experiences certainly changed people. Spirit, Mira, the House had all changed in different amounts over the years, yet his goals remained the same. Hiding his awakening from the world and hiding the world from himself. Monty couldn’t help but feel a little tired. He leaned back further and looked at the ceiling. His goals would never change.

The following three days were uneventful. Monty, Mira, Spirit, and the rest of the plateau continued to live on, some blissfully ignorant and some aware it was just the calm before the storm. The Greyson’s and the Cult intensively accumulated resources while other powers watched. Many intended to interfere while others were simply spectators wanting to fish for benefits.

The Union took a passive role. Verena Morwen showed no signs of involving herself in the conflict, only bolstering her defenses. There was no news of Iris or Astrophel.

On the other hand, Silva Sorrento had already begun transferring mages of various caliber to the plateau. Erwin’s intentions were obvious, and Monty heard Silva initiated a private search for a “grey-haired and grey-eyed kidnapper bastard.” He could only smile wryly at this; the illusionist had mimicked her personality quite accurately.

Finishing his morning shower, Monty wrapped a white towel around his waist. It didn’t take him long to get dressed and head to his study.

“It should be today,” he thought to himself, reading the House’s financial reports for the past week. Business was flourishing and the demand for medicine would only continue to grow as the impending conflict approached. Seeing his cut of the profit, Monty felt he had a good understanding of why his uncle was a merchant. Such large numbers were a sight to behold.

Monty placed down the paper as he heard a knock on the door. A woman’s middle-aged voice informed him that Emma had made her decision.

“Well then, let her in,” Monty said back blandly.

The door creaked open and Emma, closely followed by Mira, entered the room. Sauntering to Monty’s desk, Emma stood poised. Monty looked at her indifferently and asked,

“So what’s your decision?”