Amyra's eyes widened as the sight of the library quite literally stole her breath. It was massive, stacked with more books than she had ever imagined any house could contain. Thousands of volumes lined the two-storied walls, neatly arranged on every side.
A large couch and a comfy chair were placed in the center of the room before the fireplace, accompanied by a small coffee table.
"There are all kinds of genres in here, my lady. You may choose anything that interests you," the butler stated.
Myra simply nodded, unable to find the right words.
"Do you have a preference in mind?" Alvin asked a moment later.
Myra thought for a second before answering, "Umm... history?"
The butler nodded and led her to a wall in the far-right corner of the room. "This entire shelf contains books on history, Lady Myra."
She approached and pulled out a thick book with a blue leather binding. The title was boldly embossed in gold:
*************************************
PAUL MACAULAY
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
HISTORY OF ARCARDIA
VOLUME I
*************************************
The book looked old and worn. Though the pages remained intact, they had yellowed with time and emitted a faint, earthy smell.
She skimmed through the pages, debating whether to read it or pick another book.
The butler, still standing beside her, said, "Lady Myra, feel free to choose from any of the shelves. However, please refrain from going up to the second floor. That section holds confidential books and is restricted to everyone except the Lord."
Myra nodded in understanding. Alvin then bowed slightly. "If there's anything else you need, please call for me. I'll come right away." With that, he left the library.
Settling into the comfy chair, Myra began to read.
.
.
The Ministry is an organization founded to ensure stability across the Five Lands. While each land is governed by a Lord, the Ministry takes responsibility for maintaining law and order across Arcardia, Wendyln, Stonefort, Northwick, and Zantra Valley. Its role is to preserve peace and assist in smooth administration by providing necessary guidance to the Lords.
The Ministry's headquarters is located in Arcardia, with branch offices in the remaining four regions.
Theodore was seated in the office of Head Minister Rupert.
Rupert Malphus was the fifth Head Minister of the Ministry. A strict and disciplined semi-trueborn demon, his father had been trueborn while his mother was a falseborn—making him of mixed lineage.
He was a short man, with pepper-colored hair neatly combed back and pale yellow eyes. His complexion was a warm wheatish tone.
"So, what do we do about the listed members?" Rupert asked, removing his glasses and placing them on the table. He leaned forward, interlocking his fingers and eyeing the Lord seated across from him —who was, to Rupert's quiet horror, calmly folding an important document into a sharp-pointed paper dart.
Theodore looked up briefly, then resumed folding. "Nothing."
Rupert frowned. Lord Theodore of Arcadia was a difficult man to read—twisted in his logic and unnervingly unpredictable. At least, Rupert had never managed to make sense of him.
Theodore noticed the minister's expression and smirked. "Rupert, we'll do nothing—for now."
"I don't understand," Rupert said, confused.
"We'll set a trap," Theodore replied, now examining his completed dart. "And wait for them to walk straight into it." He flicked his wrist, launching the dart. It glided smoothly across the room before striking the wall and fluttering to the floor.
"Would you care to elaborate?"
The document, handed over by a beggar spy, contained six names—Ministry members suspected of secretly aligning with the dark witches and aiding them in their plans to mass-infect demons.
Theodore leaned back, crossing his legs with practiced ease. "We know who they are. And we know what they're attempting. But we cannot act without proof. Assign a covert team to monitor these individuals. Observe quietly. Confirm the intelligence before we move."
Rupert nodded slowly.
"If this information is accurate," Theodore continued, "the witches will strike when there's a gathering. Their aim is maximum exposure—poisoning as many as they can in one event."
Rupert's eyes narrowed. "The Snowflakes Ball…"
"Exactly," said Theodore with a hint of amusement as he stood up. Rupert instinctively tensed. That smile — it always unnerved him. Outwardly polite, but within the Lord's golden eyes glinted something darker, something dangerous.
"There will be hundreds gathered that night. Everyone will be busy enjoying the party, and no one will notice if someone slips incantia into the food," Theodore said coolly.
Rupert hesitated, then said, "Why don't we detain the suspects now? Interrogate them. It would be more straightforward."
The Lord, who had been about to leave, paused with a sigh and shook his head. "That," he said dryly, "would be an ill-conceived notion, Malphus."
"Our objective isn't merely to stop the infection, Malphus. We need to find out who's masterminding it all," Theodore explained. "If we arrest even one of the six, the witches will be alerted and vanish—only to return with an even worse scheme."
"Besides, we can't be sure there aren't others among us betraying the Ministry," he added. "One wrong move could cost countless innocent lives, Malphus. We can't afford that."
"You're right," the head minister agreed. "Leave the rest to me. I'll take care of it."
Theodore nodded. "Until later." With that, he strode out of the office.
.
.
Later that night, as the Lord returned home, Alvin met him at the entrance, helping him with his coat.
"What is my little guest doing?"
"Lady Myra has been reading in the library for the past three hours, my Lord," Alvin replied with a slight bow.
Theodore nodded and made his way to the library. He found Myra fast asleep on the sofa, the book resting gently in her hands.
He shook his head softly and lifted the book, placing it on the table. Then, kneeling beside her, he observed her sleeping face.
He watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the faintest furrow between her brows, as if she were dreaming of something she couldn't quite control.
She looked so peaceful — her fair skin glowing in the warm firelight, her expression calm and serene. The sight brought a rare, genuine smile on to his lips.
Then with a soft sigh, Theodore stood and scooped her into his arms. Carrying her effortlessly, he strode down the hallway, then climbed the stairs. Reaching her room, he laid her gently on the bed, pulled the duvet over her, and left the chamber in silence.