Chapter 180 - 179: The Black Magic!

It took four grown men to finally subdue her, Adena screaming the entire time, that same broken phrase looping over and over — give me back what belongs to me, it’s mine, it was always mine — until her voice grew hoarse and her thrashing finally slowed into something more exhausted than resigned.

"Black magic," Victor said grimly, crouching briefly to examine her once she’d been restrained, careful not to get too close to her still-black eyes. "It looks like some black magic. Someone’s got a hold over her, and it’s not a light one."

"Is she possessed by it?" Caelestis asked, breathing hard, one arm still curled protectively in front of Eleanore even now.

"Maybe. Not tonight, maybe long ago." Victor rose, jaw tight. "For now, she goes to the underground cells. It’s the only place in this house secure enough to hold whatever’s in her, and the only way to keep everyone else safe until we figure out how deep this goes."

Nobody argued. Two guards hauled Adena’s limp, muttering form away, her black eyes rolling listlessly as she was carried off, the fight finally drained out of her, though the unsettling murmur of that same phrase never quite stopped.

Eleanore sat wrapped in a blanket long after the house had gone quiet again, staring at nothing, her hands still trembling faintly in her lap. Caelestis knelt in front of her, having checked every inch of her for injury at least three times already, his own hands not much steadier than hers.

"I’m alright," she said quietly, though her voice lacked its usual conviction.

"You’re not," he said, just as quiet, "and you don’t have to pretend you are. Not with me."

She didn’t argue that. She simply let him pull her closer, resting her head against his chest, listening to the too-fast rhythm of his heartbeat as it slowly, gradually began to settle.

"I need to send for Hael," Caelestis murmured eventually, more to himself than her. "If this is black magic, he’ll know more about it than either of us. He’s dealt with things like this before." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, arms tightening around her. "I’m not taking chances with this. Not with you."

He didn’t let go of her again that night, not even after the telegram had been drafted and sent, not even once her breathing had finally evened into something resembling sleep against his chest.

It was near dawn when the air in front of Eleanore’s still-open eyes rippled, the familiar translucent panel bleeding into view even through the haze of exhaustion.

|| Chapter 1: The Woman Named Barbra

The truth cannot remain hidden for long. For no matter how much one tries to hide it, it always crawls back to them.

Quest 1: The Culprit Caught

Task 1: Have Adena confess her sin.

Do you accept the task?

Yes/No

Note: Reward: +100,000 reputationPenalty: -200,000 reputation

Total Reputation: -100,000Total Coins: +90,100||

Eleanore stared at it for a long, silent moment, Caelestis’s steady breathing beside her the only sound in the room. Whatever force had orchestrated all of this, the notifications, the tasks, the strange, mechanical framing of her own life into quests and rewards, it wasn’t finished with her yet. And now, somehow, it wanted a confession from a woman lying half-conscious in a cell below the house, possessed by something with black eyes and a voice that wasn’t entirely her own.

Fine, Eleanore thought, jaw tightening with something colder and more resolved than fear. Let’s see this through to the end, then.

She reached out, and accepted the task.

---

The honeymoon suite overlooked the water, the kind of view Hael had spent an embarrassing amount of money securing, and for the first time in weeks he’d actually managed to convince himself that nothing back home required his immediate attention. Stella was curled against his side, laughing softly at something he’d said, the late afternoon light catching gold in her hair, and for a rare, precious stretch of time, the world had narrowed down to just the two of them.

"You’re staring," Stella said, not opening her eyes.

"I’m allowed to stare. You’re my wife."

"That’s not an excuse, that’s just an admission."

He laughed, pressing a kiss to her temple, and it was in that exact moment of quiet, uncomplicated happiness that the knock came at the door, sharp, urgent, entirely at odds with the peaceful hush of the room.

Hael frowned, extracting himself carefully so as not to jostle Stella too much, and opened the door to find a courier holding out a sealed telegram, breathing hard like he’d run the entire way from the station.

"Urgent message, my lord. From Lancaster Mansion."

The moment he broke the seal and read the first line, whatever remained of the afternoon’s peace evaporated entirely.

"What is it?" Stella asked, already sitting up, some instinct picking up on the shift in his expression before he’d said a word.

"Lady Adena," Hael said grimly. "She’s been possessed. Black magic. Caelestis needs me there immediately."

Stella was already reaching for her travel case before he’d even finished the sentence.

---

By the time Hael and Stella arrived back at Lancaster Mansion, the black magic had already left Adena’s body. Expelled, according to the guards stationed outside her cell, sometime just before dawn, leaving her collapsed and disoriented on the cold stone floor. When Eleanore and Caelestis descended the narrow steps to the underground cells, Adena was sitting curled against the far wall, arms wrapped around her knees, her eyes finally her own again, wide, red-rimmed, and terrified.

"Lady Eleanore?" Her voice came out small, cracked, nothing like her usual bright chatter. "What happened? Why am I—" She looked down at herself, at the cell around her, and something like horror dawned across her face. "What did I do?"

"You tell us," Caelestis said, voice hard, though he kept himself carefully positioned between her and Eleanore regardless.

Adena’s breath came faster, panic rising visibly as fragmented memories seemed to surface, flashes of a knife, of black eyes reflected in a window, of a voice that hadn’t quite been her own. "I don’t — I don’t remember all of it, I swear, it’s like watching someone else move my body, I couldn’t stop it—"

"Then let’s start with what you do remember," Eleanore said, quiet and even, though there was no warmth in it now. "Starting with Barbra Fein."