Chapter 247: Hermione and Esther Meet Ceres

After the examination, the physicians finally left Ulrich’s room.

Both men were visibly shaken.

Ceres had done what they had believed impossible. She had repaired the damaged mana pathways, reconnected the severed limb, and helped stitch Ulrich’s arm back into place. The arm would still need time. Flesh, nerves, and mana channels had to recover together before Ulrich could use it normally again.

But the connection had held.

It was nothing short of miraculous.

The physicians had wanted to ask questions.

Too many questions.

They wanted to understand Ceres’s magic, the green light, the amber vines, and the strange marks that had appeared over Ulrich’s arm. They wanted to know how a girl without formal medical training had achieved something human healers could barely imagine.

Ulrich had given them one look.

Then he had made his position clear.

If even a single word about Ceres, her power, or what happened in his room reached the capital, they would suffer consequences worse than death.

The physicians bowed so quickly that they nearly tripped over themselves.

Then they left in a hurry.

Afterward, Hermione and Esther returned to their rooms as well.

Airam had tried to remain.

She had sat beside Ulrich’s bed with her arms crossed, clearly intending to watch him until he fell asleep.

But Hermione eventually caught her by the sleeve and pulled.

"Come on," she said. "He needs air. You have been beside him all day."

Airam resisted for several seconds.

Then, after one long look toward Ulrich, she allowed Hermione to drag her away.

Esther followed quietly.

At last, Ulrich’s room became still.

Meanwhile, Ceres rested in a guest chamber on the other side of the Estate.

Her condition was nowhere near as serious as Ulrich’s.

The Thornbreath Curse had not fully consumed her. The amber veins had faded from her face, and her spirit magic had not caused any visible lasting damage. Still, she was exhausted. The effort of healing Ulrich’s mana pathways and reconnecting his arm had drained nearly everything from her body.

She lay beneath clean blankets in a guest room.

Mark sat beside the bed in an old wooden chair.

He did not know whether he should feel proud or afraid.

Proud, because Ceres had acted on her own decision.

She had not run away.

She had not hidden.

She had seen Ulrich injured and chosen to help him without anyone forcing her. More than that, she had done something extraordinary. She had restored a severed arm. Even if it had not been entirely through spirit magic, even if the Thornbreath had been involved, it was still a remarkable achievement.

But Mark was worried.

He knew what the dark amber vines meant.

The Thornbreath Curse had answered Ceres.

And every time Ceres relied too heavily on it, the curse grew more dangerous.

Mark sighed and leaned back in the chair.

He closed his eyes for only a moment.

Hours passed.

By late afternoon, the light outside had turned gold.

Ceres’s brows furrowed.

A loud sound had pulled her from sleep.

She opened her eyes slowly.

For several seconds, she stared at the white ceiling above her. Her body felt strangely heavy. Every limb seemed numb, and exhaustion clung to her as though she had spent the entire day running without pause.

Then she heard the sound again.

A loud snore.

Ceres turned her head.

Mark sat in the chair beside the bed, slouched so far back that he looked as though he might fall over. His mouth hung open, and each breath came with a surprisingly loud snore.

Ceres stared at him.

Then, despite everything, she smiled faintly.

Waking to see her grandfather nearby was reassuring.

It made the unfamiliar room feel less frightening.

It reminded her that she was safe.

Ceres slowly pushed herself upright.

The moment she moved, weakness passed through her body.

Her arms trembled.

She paused, breathing slowly until the dizziness faded.

Then she slipped carefully from the bed.

Her bare feet touched the cold floor.

Ceres swayed.

She immediately reached for the wall beside her, pressing one hand against it to steady herself.

Mark continued snoring.

Ceres glanced at him.

She did not want to wake him.

Quietly, she crossed the room. Her steps were slow, and she kept one hand against the wall as she made her way toward the door.

She opened it carefully.

The corridor outside was empty.

Ceres peeked out first.

Then she slipped through the doorway and closed it behind her without making a sound.

She continued down the hall.

The Estate was unlike anything she had ever seen.

Paintings hung along the walls in heavy frames. Crimson-and-gold carpets covered the polished floors. Ornate lamps cast warm light over carved wooden furniture, tall windows, and vases filled with fresh flowers.

Everything was orderly.

Perfectly placed.

Even the colors seemed chosen with care. Crimson appeared throughout the Estate, in the drapes, the woodwork, the rugs, and the banners bearing House Rubenhart’s crest.

Ceres looked around with quiet wonder.

"So this is the Count’s home," she whispered.

It suited him.

The Estate was beautiful, but not soft. It was elegant. Every detail seemed perfect. Nothing looked accidental.

And beneath the familiar scents of wood, flowers, and clean linen, Ceres could sense something else.

A faint trace of Ulrich.

The atmosphere of the Estate itself reminded her of him.

Though Ulrich’s own presence was stronger. Sharper. More difficult to forget.

Ceres continued forward.

Then she heard footsteps, quick footsteps and voices.

"Come on, Big Sister!"

"You should not have mocked me!"

Ceres stopped.

Two girls came running around the corner.

Esther was in front, giggling as she tried to escape. Hermione chased after her with a faint smirk, though she clearly intended to catch her.

Then both of them saw Ceres.

Esther stopped first, her eyes widening.

"Oh."

Hermione stopped a second later.

The amusement vanished from her face.

Her ruby eyes narrowed immediately.

"What are you doing here?"

Ceres looked at her.

"I woke up."

Esther stepped forward slightly.

"Um... do you need help?"

Ceres nodded.

"I am looking for the Count."

The moment she said it, Hermione’s expression darkened.

"Ulrich is still recovering."

Ceres looked at her quietly.

"May I ask who you are?"

Hermione straightened.

"We are members of the House Rubenhart."

There was pride in her voice.

"I am Hermione. This is Esther."

Esther gave Ceres a small, uncertain smile.

Ceres looked between them.

Then understanding appeared in her visible eye.

"Oh."

Her gaze fixed on Hermione.

"You are the witches."

Hermione stiffened.

"Like me," Ceres added.

"We are not like you," Hermione said.

Her response came too quickly.

Ceres did not argue.

"I suppose not."

She began walking again.

"Wait," Hermione said.

Ceres stopped.

"Where are you going?"

"To see the Count."

"I told you he is resting."

"I will not wake him," Ceres replied. "I only want to sit beside him and make certain he is fine."

Hermione frowned.

Ceres tried to move past her.

Hermione caught her wrist.

"Do not bother Ulrich," she said.

"Big Sister," Esther mumbled nervously.

Ceres looked down at Hermione’s hand around her wrist.

Then she raised her gaze; her visible green eye was calm.

But there was no warmth in it.

"I am not bothering him," Ceres said. "I helped him."

Hermione’s eyes narrowed.

"What?"

"I helped him," Ceres repeated.

"What is your relationship with Ulrich?" Hermione asked.

Ceres’s gaze did not leave hers.

"That is between me and the Count," she said.

A vein throbbed at Hermione’s forehead.

Esther tugged gently at Hermione’s sleeve.

"Big Sister," she whispered. "Come on."

Hermione stared at Ceres for several more seconds.

Then she released her wrist.

"Hmph."

She crossed her arms.

"I will come too."

Ceres tilted her head slightly.

"To make sure you do not bother him," Hermione added.

"If you wish," Ceres replied.

Then she continued down the corridor.

Hermione followed behind her.

Esther trailed after them both, looking between the two girls with growing concern.