Moonlight streamed through the window in the stairwell, illuminating half of the woman's face. Her eyes reflected a faint blue light, like stars in the darkness. Anna leaned against the door, mostly hidden in shadow, but her outline was still faintly visible—good nutrition had completely transformed her from her initial gaunt appearance. As a newly adult woman, her figure was just right, containing the unique youthful charm of her age.

Roland put on a calm appearance and slowly walked forward. The other party saw him too, stood up straight, and met his eyes.

"It was just an accident, I didn't know she would—" he began.

"I understand."

"She's still young, I didn't take it to heart—"

"I understand too."

Contrary to Roland's expectations, Anna didn't seem to be sulking. There was no trace of displeasure on her face, but rather a serious expression. Her lake-blue eyes didn't show a hint of ripple. Roland realized that she was still that straightforward woman. She didn't like to pretend, nor did she need to. Sure enough, she took the initiative and said, "I can't be like Lightning, daring to do such a...bold thing in front of everyone, so I had to wait for you here."

After saying these words, a hint of blush was clearly visible on her cheeks, but even so, she didn't back down. Her eyes were still looking directly at Roland, her expression incredibly serious.

Roland's heartbeat slowed down by two beats. He wanted to say something, but at this moment, all words seemed redundant. She might mind Lightning's actions, but sulking or complaining was not her way of doing things. She would only express her demands directly.

An honest and hardworking child should not be rejected, he thought. Bending down, Roland brought his cheek close to Anna. Her breath gently caressed him, like a spring breeze plucking at the strings of his heart. The slightly nervous breathing was clearly audible in the silent hallway. Then, a soft lip gently imprinted on Roland's cheek.

"Good night, Your Highness," Anna whispered.

*******************

Wendy sat propped up on the headboard, flipping through the book in her hand.

This was a rare moment of leisure for her, a life she wouldn't have dared to imagine back in the Witch Cooperation Union.

Not long after arriving in town, she had developed such a habit: washing herself clean before going to bed, putting on a silk nightgown, unfastening the waist tie and buttons, sitting cross-legged in the blanket, putting a soft pillow behind her back, and reading books borrowed from His Highness.

Today, settling Lightning had taken a lot of time, so she didn't plan to return to the backyard, and went straight to bed after washing up.

This was a history book about the origin of the church.

Although she grew up in the nunnery, she didn't know much about this aspect. The head nun repeatedly warned them to listen to God's teachings, but never mentioned the name of God—which confused her as a child. Everyone has a name, why doesn't the noblest God have one?

What was recorded in the book was basically the same as the rumors she later heard. There were initially three major churches on the mainland, and each considered the others to be heretics who worshiped evil gods. This war of faith lasted for nearly a hundred years. In the end, the current church won a complete victory and claimed that the evil god had been destroyed. From now on, God only has one name, which is the word "God" itself.

The following chapters described the glory and immortality of the church, including the establishment of the Old Holy City and the New Holy City, as well as the victory over the evil witches. This made Wendy feel very strange. She had borrowed "Graycastle History" and "A Brief History of the Continent" from Prince Roland. The first book recorded the establishment, development, and major events of the kingdom in almost every detail. For example, the name, marital status, and whereabouts of each king and his children. The family branches recorded in the character section were almost like a detailed genealogy.

"A Brief History of the Continent" focused on the evolution of the four kingdoms, the alternation of power, and political struggles, but the lives of the rulers of each kingdom were still important recorded content.

But in the history of the church, no pope's name was mentioned, or rather, like God, the word "Pope" was directly used to replace the names of the leaders of each generation. Reading through the whole book, it seemed as if he alone had spanned hundreds of years of history. This was not in line with common sense. It was less like recording and more like deliberately downplaying.

Just then, Nightingale suddenly appeared in the room. Wendy put down the book and looked at her with interest: "It's so late, and you actually have time to come to me?"

The latter rubbed her neck and walked to the bedside to sit down. "I just took Nana Wa home, where's Lightning?"

"She fell asleep as soon as she hit the bed, mumbling 'Papa, Papa' non-stop," Wendy shrugged, "Looking at her usually daring appearance, she's still a child."

"In your eyes, everyone is a child," Nightingale snatched the book from her hand, "His Highness said, try not to read at night, especially sitting on the bed. If the light is not enough, it will harm your eyesight."

"Yes, yes, what His Highness said."

The two chatted for a while, from Silverlight City to the Impassable Mountain Range, from hearing that a witch was murdered in town to joining hands with the prince to fight against the Evil Moon. Nightingale said a sentence or two casually, and Wendy also chimed in from time to time. This was the tacit understanding formed by the two being inseparable for the past five years. Time flowed slowly like this, until the candle was about to go out, and Wendy covered her mouth and smiled, "What's wrong, are you sleepless after seeing Lightning's actions?"

"What are you talking about..."

"What else could it be," Wendy shook her head with a smile, "Veronica, we are witches, you should know that."

"..." Nightingale was silent, and after a long time, she whispered, "Yeah."

This is fate, the fate that all witches cannot escape. Wendy put away her smile and sighed softly, "Roland Wimbledon is the Fourth Prince of the kingdom, and what we have to do is help him ascend the throne and become the King of Graycastle. He will govern the country well and give the sisters a place to live."

"But, he is ultimately a king. When the time is ripe, he will marry the daughter of a duke, or a princess from another kingdom, and then give birth to children. Maybe one, maybe many; maybe boys, maybe girls. The boys will inherit the country, and the girls will marry other prominent nobles."

Speaking of this, Wendy paused for a moment, and said the words that Nightingale, or rather all witches, did not want to hear, "Veronica, we are witches, witches cannot bear children."

"Even if we think about it in the most optimistic way, after His Highness has been in power for a hundred years, the sisters will finally be able to be no different from ordinary people, and they can walk freely on every piece of land in the kingdom. Occasionally, outstanding witches will enter the upper class and be ennobled as nobles, but the fact that witches cannot bear children will remain unchanged. They will not have descendants to continue the glory of the family. Similarly, those aristocratic families will not consider marrying a witch. Heaven has given us some things, but it has also taken away some things. This is fate," she whispered, "May you be merciful."

"I understand," she said softly.

...

After sending Nightingale away, Wendy also felt uncomfortable, but she believed that the other party could get out of it. After all, they had overcome so many difficulties, and they would not easily fall on this hurdle.

She firmly believed it.