The Witch’s Tea Party

Clutching the now remarkably docile Book of the Nameless, I emerged from the secret chamber.

Beatrix followed silently, closing the hidden compartment once more behind me.

As we re-entered the sun-drenched forbidden section on the top floor, the atmosphere between us had undergone a subtle yet profound shift.

No longer was it a tense confrontation.

Instead, it was a peculiar, unspoken tranquility, one shared only by accomplices.

“I’m going back now,” I told her.

“I’ll see you downstairs,” Beatrix offered after a moment of hesitation.

Perhaps it was her duty as a member of the Disciplinary Committee, or perhaps… it was an impulse she herself couldn’t quite articulate, a need to confirm something.

I did not refuse.

One after another, we descended the narrow spiral staircase in silence.

We moved from the forbidden third floor, down to the regular third, and finally to the bustling first floor.

The moment our feet touched the solid marble floor of the library’s first level, I almost immediately sensed that familiar gaze—one filled with both amusement and keen scrutiny.

Behind the service desk, Elinor von Windermere rested her chin on one hand, her beautiful amethyst eyes observing us with a faint, knowing smile.

Her gaze lingered particularly on the irregularly shaped book in my grasp, crudely wrapped in black cloth.

‘It seemed she had anticipated my descent, trophy in hand.’

“It seems, Lilliana, that your fundamental questions have been answered?” she began, her voice as soft and melodious as ever, yet it brushed against my most sensitive nerves with the precision of a feather.

Ignoring her question, I walked directly to the service desk and placed the Book of the Nameless upon the counter.

Beatrix halted behind me, her body rigid and straight, resembling a statue standing vigil.

Yet, the slight clenching of her fists betrayed her inner tension.

“I am temporarily borrowing this book,” I declared calmly, meeting Elinor’s gaze.

Elinor’s eyebrow lifted, almost imperceptibly.

She seemed somewhat surprised that I hadn’t chosen to conceal my actions, but instead, so directly challenged her, the mistress of this domain.

“Oh?” A more profound smile curved her lips.

“Lilliana, you must know that the texts within the restricted section are unequivocally not for loan. All the more so when it comes to… a unique treasure like the Book of the Nameless.”

Her gaze subtly flickered towards Beatrix behind me, a fleeting, almost imperceptible glance.

That look seemed to convey: ‘See, my loyal knight, your new ally utterly disregards the rules.’

Beatrix’s body grew even stiffer, her lips pressed into a tight, silent line.

Through her silence, she honored the unspoken pact between us.

“Rules are designed to restrain those incapable of bearing their consequences,” I declared, meeting Elinor’s gaze without a hint of retreat.

“And I, by chance, am the sole individual capable of shouldering the repercussions of this book. Madam Windermere, are you truly not curious about what lies within its pages—a book even you have been unable to decipher?”

I tossed the challenge back to her.

I had escalated this gambit from a mere request to borrow into a full-fledged transaction.

—’I would decipher it; she would observe the outcome.’

Within Elinor’s profound purple eyes, a glimmer of genuine appreciation finally sparked.

As if seeing me for the very first time, she surveyed me anew, from head to toe.

Finally, a soft laugh escaped her lips.

Her laughter resonated like wind chimes in the still night—crisp, yet imbued with a subtle chill.

“You are correct,” she murmured, slowly rising to her feet.

She rounded the service desk, approaching me directly.

The cool, tuberose scent clinging to her was more distinct, more assertive than before.

She did not glance at the book in my hand. Instead, she extended her cool, soft hands and gently cupped a strand of my long hair.

“Such dark, such pure hair… like chaos itself, beautiful yet perilous.”

She whispered near my ear, her warm breath caressing my cheek.

“Very well, I agree to your transaction. This book, you may take. However…”

Her fingertips, trailing from my hair, lightly brushed against my neck, sending a subtle shiver through me, akin to a faint electric current.

“…In exchange, I expect you to visit the top floor occasionally and share your reading insights with me. Consider it… a small tea party, just between the two of us. What do you say?”

This was no mere tea party; it was, quite clearly, a far more direct and overt exchange of information.

She had abandoned the indirect method of surveillance through Beatrix, opting instead to enter the game herself and draw me fully onto her chessboard.

I gazed into her purple eyes, so close they seemed to absorb all light, and remained silent for a moment.

Then, I offered a subtle nod.

“Very well.”

At my reply, Elinor’s smile deepened, becoming even more radiant and content.

She released my hair, stepping back to re-establish the distance between us.

“Then, let our cooperation be pleasant, my dear Child of Chaos.”

With a smile, she offered me an impeccable noble curtsy.

Thus, the silent confrontation unfolding in the first-floor hall finally drew to a close.

Clutching the forbidden book, I turned and exited the library, keenly aware of Elinor’s amused gaze following my departure.

Beatrix remained silently at my heels.

It wasn’t until we stepped out of the library doors, bathed in the warmth of the sunlight, that she finally spoke.

Her voice was low, tinged with a complex sense of defeat.

“You won.”

“No,” I replied, shaking my head and glancing back at her. “We did not win.”

“We have merely… transitioned from one chessboard to another, far grander one.”

And the true player, standing in her ivory tower, was smiling, anticipating us, her pieces…

…to perform an even more spectacular drama for her amusement.