“Very well, I’ll be leaving first to take care of it,” Reinhard said, already walking toward the front door with his usual firm stride, carrying the administrative burden he had just promised.
“Now, come on, Elsa!” Merope, wasting no time, grabbed Elsa’s hand and pulled her enthusiastically toward another part of the residence.
“I want to ask Granny Grimm to prepare your knight uniform for the inauguration later!”
Elsa let herself be dragged, slightly surprised by how easily the girl held her hand—a hand used just moments before to slice open her own body—without a single hint of hesitation or disgust.
“Hey! I’m coming too!” Felt shouted, hurriedly following behind the two of them, having changed back into her much looser and freer everyday clothes compared to the fancy dress from earlier.
“I have to watch this woman so she doesn’t pull anything weird!”
Merope chuckled softly at that, without slowing her pace at all.
“Felt, you’re so protective.”
“Well duh!” Felt replied, pouting, “considering you’re this naive, if nobody watches out for you, you’ll end up getting scammed by just about anyone.”
“I’m right here, though,” Elsa chimed in, her tone casual, though the faint smile on her face looked a bit more sincere than usual.
“I’ll protect her too, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“That’s the main reason why I’m worried,” Felt grumbled, making Merope laugh again as a light atmosphere returned to the residence that moments before was gripped by tension.
The three of them walked down the hallway toward the small sewing room in the residence’s wing, where Granny Grimm usually spent her free time fixing clothes that needed mending. Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
As the door opened, the old woman looked up from her needle and thread, raising an eyebrow slightly at the group that had just entered.
“Merope-sama,” she greeted politely as usual, before her eyes shifted to the new figure beside Merope—Elsa, standing in dark clothes far removed from formal court style.
“And… a new guest?”
“Granny Grimm!” Merope cheered happily, still holding Elsa’s hand tightly.
“This is Elsa, my new knight! Could you please make her a nice knight uniform for the inauguration later?”
Grimm stared at Elsa longer than necessary, her aged yet sharp eyes assessing every detail—her posture, how she stood, an aura feeling vastly different from anyone she had ever served before.
“…Very well,” she answered finally, laying her needle down slowly.
“Let me take your measurements first.”
Grimm started working with the measuring tape in hand, her movements nimble and experienced even though Elsa stood with a relaxed posture clearly unaccustomed to being measured like this.
Merope sat on the nearest chair, watching with sparkling eyes, her chin resting on both hands.
“Wow, your body shape is really great, Elsa!” she exclaimed admiringly, watching Elsa’s slim yet clearly trained silhouette.
“I wonder if I can have a body like that someday, too!” She imagined, her eyes drifting far away, already picturing herself with a posture as tall and elegant as Elsa’s.
“That’s impossible,” Felt interrupted, sitting in the neighboring chair with her casual style, “you’re older than all of us here. There’s no way you can grow anymore.” This chapter was taken from novelping.com without permission.
“Older?” Elsa, who had been quietly letting herself be measured, turned her head slightly, her curiosity piqued by this new detail.
“Ah! Elsa didn’t know the news, huh!” Merope sat up straighter, looking somewhat proud to explain, as if it were interesting trivia rather than a heavy burden she should have hidden.
“I’m the witch’s sister! Which automatically makes me 400 years old! Even though right now I’ve got amnesia and don’t know my own past—even the name Merope was given to me by Felt.”
“Is that so,” Elsa answered briefly, yet beneath her casual tone, something deeper began to spin—400 years old, a witch’s sister, total amnesia.
Every new piece of the puzzle she gathered about this girl only added layers to a mystery growing more fascinating to her, far surpassing an ordinary hunter’s curiosity toward a target.
“Alright, the body measurements are done,” Grimm said, rolling up her measuring tape neatly.
“I will have the uniform made right away.”
Before Merope could express her gratitude, one of the maids appeared at the threshold of the sewing room, bowing politely.
“Pardon me, Merope-sama, someone wishes to meet with you.”
Merope blinked, turning from Elsa to look at the maid.
“Wants to meet me? okay, I’ll be right there.”
…..
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