In the meantime, Monica and Veronica had erupted in fury back at Armando's villa upon learning that Jorael had left with the Grand Inquisitor. Cyn'Thia, in a tone far too casual for the situation, noted, "...he instructed us to await him here."
"And that's acceptable to you, dear?" the irate Storm Witch demanded.
"Well, no, but... the Princess is under our watch," the Elf responded naively, before Armando interjected, stammering, "W-wait, the P-Princess?! What is happening?!"
Monica, her patience worn thin, proclaimed, "That's enough. I, Monica Tramonte, am taking command of this residence. Sleep!" A spell flowed from her lips, the glowing heptagram of Green Magic forming and briefly illuminating the room, before Armando abruptly crumpled to the floor, deep in slumber.
Veronica couldn't help but comment on the unexpected turn of events, observing Armando sprawled on the floor and remarking, "That was certainly unforeseen."