The Witch and the Duke

Chapter 7: The Witch and the Duke

Elara stood before me, her eyes filled with uncertainty. She was only thirteen, and already the world had cast her as something evil, something unnatural. I could sense Sylvia's apprehension as I reached out to hold the young girl's hands, but I continued, undeterred.

"You have nothing to fear here," I said softly, looking directly into her eyes. "Your powers aren't a curse or a mark of evil. They're a gift, something unique that belongs to you and only you. No one will harm you under my protection."

Elara blinked, a faint glimmer of hope flickering in her gaze as she nodded, her small hands trembling less. Sylvia's watchful eyes tracked every movement, but I paid her no mind. I had a duty to these witches, and no amount of suspicion would derail my plans.

"You'll join Lyra in her lessons," I continued, smiling warmly. "Together, you'll learn to master your abilities, and soon, you'll see just how powerful you can become."

The young girl smiled faintly, her fear starting to ease. As I ushered her toward Lyra's ongoing lessons about the nature of matter and energy, I caught a glimpse of Sylvia's face, softened ever so slightly by what she'd witnessed.

Even Sylvia couldn't deny the progress being made. She joined our lessons now and then, her curiosity getting the better of her. Lyra's powers had grown exponentially, and with time, Elara's control over water was beginning to manifest. Each day, the witches were becoming more confident, and that confidence was essential for what was to come.

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A New Target: Veronica Nightingale Gull

It had been weeks since Elara joined us, and Harrow's Reach had grown more secure by the day. But I couldn't stop there. My next target was someone of far greater importance—Veronica Nightingale Gull. In the novel, she had a remarkable ability to move in the shadows, a skill that would be invaluable to my cause. I needed her.

I knew the path to recruit her wouldn't be easy. The Gull family was powerful, deeply entrenched in noble circles, and, most importantly, devout believers in the Church. This presented a problem—my actions in protecting witches had not gone unnoticed, and word was spreading quickly through the noble ranks.

Still, I was confident I could persuade her to join me. Or at the very least, I could find a way to ensure her safety before Roland's arrival.

---

The Gull Estate

The Gull estate loomed before me, an imposing structure of stone and iron, guarded heavily by soldiers who eyed me with suspicion. As I approached, the atmosphere was tense. It was no secret that my recent dealings with witches had made me a controversial figure. Some nobles whispered that I had turned against the Church, while others debated whether they should attack me before the Church took action.

I was shown into the reception hall, where the steward—a tall, thin man with a haughty air—greeted me coldly. "Lord Harrow," he said, his voice dripping with disdain. "The Duke does not receive uninvited guests."

"I expected nothing less," I replied, keeping my tone polite but firm. "But I believe the Duke will want to read this." I handed him a sealed letter addressed to Duke Gull, carefully crafted for maximum impact.

The steward took the letter with a raised eyebrow but said nothing, disappearing into the depths of the estate. Minutes passed. Then more minutes. It was clear the Duke was either too proud or too angry to see me. I remained patient, knowing that the letter's contents would eventually force his hand.

And I was right.

After what felt like an hour, the steward returned, his expression stony. "The Duke will see you now."

I followed him through long, echoing corridors until we reached the Duke's private study. The door opened, revealing Duke Gull, a tall, broad-shouldered man in his fifties. His face was a mask of barely contained fury as he gestured for me to enter.

"Lord Harrow," he said, his voice cold and clipped. "I received your letter."

"I thought you might find it... enlightening," I said smoothly, stepping into the room. The door closed behind me with a heavy thud.

The Duke's hands gripped the arms of his chair tightly, his knuckles white. "How dare you blackmail me?" he spat. "You, a mere baron, presume to threaten my family? My daughter?"

I didn't flinch under his gaze, remaining calm. "It's not a threat, Your Grace. It's an opportunity."

"An opportunity?" he sneered. "You demand that I give up my daughter, one of the finest noblewomen of the kingdom, to protect my reputation from the Church?"

"I demand nothing," I said, keeping my voice even. "But we both know what will happen if the Church finds out that your daughter is a witch. You may be a Duke, but the Church's reach is long, and its punishment is unforgiving. I'm offering you a way out—a chance to save face and protect her."

The Duke's face turned a deeper shade of red, his anger barely held in check. "And you think I'll just hand her over to you? To a man who openly defies the Church?"

I leaned forward slightly, locking eyes with him. "I don't defy the Church. I defy their lies. Witches aren't devils, Your Grace. They're people with gifts, just like anyone else. And in the times to come, those gifts will be more valuable than you realize."

For a moment, silence stretched between us, thick with tension. The Duke's mind was at war with itself—his loyalty to the Church, his fear for his daughter, and his pride as a nobleman.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and dangerous. "Why should I trust you? Why should I believe that you have my daughter's best interests at heart? How will a mere baron protect her from church?"

"Because I've already done this," I replied. "There are witches under my protection as we speak, and they're thriving. You can ask them yourself. I'm not your enemy, Duke Gull. I'm offering a solution. As for the church,I have a way to confront them given a year or two. "

The Duke stared at me for a long, tense moment, then finally leaned back in his chair, the anger in his eyes cooling into something more calculated. "Humph,You're either the most foolish man I've ever met, or the most dangerous."

"Perhaps both," I said, smiling slightly.

The Duke grunted, rubbing his temples. "Very well. I'll let you meet her. But know this—if you so much as think about harming my daughter, I'll see to it that your head ends up on a pike."

"I wouldn't expect anything less," I said with a nod. "But I have no intention of harming her. I only want to offer her a choice."

The Duke waved me away, clearly still fuming but resigned to the fact that he had no better option. "You'll meet her tomorrow morning. But if she refuses, that's the end of it."

"Agreed," I said. "Thank you for your time, Your Grace."

As I left the room, I couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction. The Duke may have been a devout follower of the Church, but even he couldn't ignore the realities of the world. And now, I was one step closer to bringing Veronica Nightingale Gull into my fold.