Translator: CinderTL
Night had fallen over Alden Town.
As dinner approached, candlelight flickered softly in the Lord's Manor dining hall, illuminating the figures of five women.
Under the warm glow, Paul entered with a woman by his side.
Ladia immediately rose to her feet upon seeing the figure.
Paul introduced her to the others: "This is my mother, Marianna."
The others froze in shock, except for Ladia.
Frostine stiffened in her seat, her eyes widening as if struck by lightning. As a member of the Arcane Order, she recognized that face.
After a moment of stunned silence, Catherine spoke first: "But I heard... I'm sorry, I heard you passed away years ago..."
The others wore equally puzzled expressions. None of them had ever heard Paul mention his mother being alive.
Marianna stood tall, her voice calm: "I didn't die. Years ago, to protect my family from the Church's persecution, I had to leave Alden. We announced my death to safeguard the Grayman family."
The Church's persecution? Catherine, Eileen, and Ophina immediately understood.
Marianna paused, looking at the women before her. "Yes, my true identity is that of a witch, and I am a member of the Arcane Order, just like Coleridge... Frostine."
The air froze instantly. In most places, witches were hunted—at least they had been in the past—and the Arcane Order was an even more mysterious and dangerous organization.
Only Ladia showed no surprise. She nodded slightly in acknowledgment of Marianna, her former teacher whom she had met during Marianna's last visit.
Paul continued, "You are my wives, the most important people in this household. I should have told you this sooner, but now that I've explained, I trust you will keep this secret. Aside from Father's old allies, Mother's true identity must remain hidden from the outside world for now."
The candlelight glinted off Frostine's silver-white hair as she lowered her head, her fingers unconsciously twisting the fabric of her sleeve.
She recognized Marianna. She had glimpsed her several times at high-level Arcane Order meetings—that silent, imposing witch whom few dared to meet her gaze, one of the Council of Ten, even Emperor Antonio treated her with deference.
Frostine had never imagined she would one day face her former superior as the wife of Marianna's son.
When Marianna's gaze fell upon her, Frostine felt as if ice water had been poured over her head.
"After dinner, I'd like to speak with you privately," Marianna said, her voice low yet commanding, silencing the entire room.
Frostine lifted her head, meeting those deep, penetrating eyes.
Her throat tightened as she nodded slightly. "...Yes, Madam."
Everyone sensed the undercurrents beneath this brief exchange—two witches from the Arcane Order, now brought together under the same roof by a man, reunited in a strange and unsettling manner.
As dinner began, Catherine and the others engaged Marianna in conversation about her experiences abroad over the years, and even mentioned Paul's younger brother, Nathan. The group gradually grew more comfortable with each other.
Only Frostine sat there, like a statue awaiting judgment.
She didn't know what kind of conversation awaited her, but she suspected it would be more challenging than any mission she had ever undertaken.
Paul noticed the tense atmosphere, especially Frostine's downcast gaze and slightly pale fingertips.
He smiled and broke the silence with a lighthearted tone.
"Mother, please don't be too hard on Frostine. She's currently a 'convicted prisoner.' The Lord's Manor is her prison—three years and four months, not a single step outside. It's written in the judgment."
Marianna turned to her son, her voice filled with disbelief. "A convicted prisoner? You... you tried her?"
"Of course," Paul replied with a smile, as if discussing a trivial matter. "She attempted to assassinate Alvey, that's a fact. Though it happened before the soul space incident, there had to be consequences upon our return to reality."
He paused, his tone turning serious. "I personally presided over the trial. Fortunately, Alvey submitted a letter of forgiveness, understanding she was acting under orders. This allowed me to reduce the sentence to confinement within the Lord's Manor, where she'll assist the Council of Administration—essentially a suspended sentence."
Marianna stared at him, her eyes widening in shock before a wave of incredulous absurdity washed over her.
"This is absurd! You are the Lord of Alden," she said, her voice low but sharp with reproach. "On this land, your word is law. Alvey is merely a fugitive—sheltering him is already an immense favor. Yet you would try your own wife for his sake? And impose a sentence, write it into official documents?"
Paul looked at his mother, his voice calming. "I know you think I'm being foolish. But laws can't just be something used to control others."
The candlelight illuminated his face. "I established laws prohibiting assassination, assault, and property seizure. If I pardon my own family members for breaking them with a mere word, what's the point of these laws? What will the people think? They'll say the lord's laws only apply to the commoners, not the powerful."
"So even if it's just for appearances," he continued, "I have to go through the trial process, set a sentence, and publicly record it. This isn't about punishing her; it's about showing everyone that in this land, the law applies equally to all—including those closest to me."
Marianna listened, her brow furrowing deeper. After a moment of silence, she spoke slowly, "You rule as lord through strength, wisdom, and the hearts of the people. But you've forgotten that equality has never existed in this world. Nobles and commoners, witches and mortals, the strong and the weak—they are fundamentally different. When your father ruled Alden, who dared question whether his judgments were 'just'? His decisions were final simply because he was the lord. That was enough."
She looked at her son, her eyes filled with both confusion and a hint of pity. "Do you really think a three-year prison sentence will convince anyone? On this land, what truly commands respect is power itself. The more you talk about rules, the more others will see you as weak, as someone who can't even take care of their own family."
Paul didn't respond immediately. He knew that unlike himself, whose soul originated from Earth, his mother had grown up in the old era, in a society where strength was revered and class distinctions were rigid.
His voice deepened. "Mother, do you think I'm naive? Do you really believe a piece of paper can restrain everyone?"
He stood up and walked to the window, gazing out at Alden Town bathed in the night's darkness. "I understand perfectly well—order, at its core, is built upon power. Without an army, without cannons, without the industrial strength to support our nation, all the laws in the world are just scraps of paper. The Northwest was able to implement its new policies not because the people loved reason, but because the Alden Legion could win wars, because our muskets could pierce the armor of the old era."
(End of the Chapter)
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