Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 49
“Escaping” was taboo in the castle. It wasn’t just acting on it. Even uttering a similar-sounding word could result in a terrible fate. Trust among those around was nonexistent. No one knew who would report them to Mistress Daisy—the moment the thought arose in anyone’s mind, severe punishment would be administered.
Daphne had been at the Black Castle longer than Alice and knew the rules and what to fear even more deeply. She knew that if she reported what Alice had just said to Mistress Daisy, her current roommate could disappear—like her previous roommate Heather, possibly becoming fertilizer in the rose garden or being carted away to be dumped where the hyenas roamed… They never came back. Alice surely knew this too.
Daphne didn’t know if she was insane, but she seemed to have no regrets about what she had said—she even appeared unafraid. Under Daphne’s suspicious gaze, she was just nervously, overly excitedly shaking, her eyes staring intensely at her.
“Do you not want to leave?” Alice asked again.
Daphne almost jumped on the spot like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.
“You’re crazy,” she said quickly. “Shut up.”
Alice stepped closer.
“I’m not crazy. I’m going to find a way out of this hellhole, with Lily. If possible, everyone will leave together.”
Daphne, normally so haughty, lost her bluster and said in a panic, “I’m going to report you. Yes, I will tell Mother, and you’ll be in big trouble.”
Alice didn’t move closer. She stood her ground, watching Daphne coldly.
“You won’t,” Alice said. “Because you want to leave too. Don’t you remember Heather? I’ll tell you. I have a way—”
“Stop!” Daphne cut her off sharply, then quickly averted her gaze, grabbing a glove haphazardly, bumping into Alice, and stumbling out of the room.
As Daphne’s figure disappeared down the corridor, Alice slumped to the floor.
This castle wasn’t a castle in the strict sense that it was home to the nobility. Without moats or watchtowers, it only had large floor-to-ceiling windows hidden by heavy curtains and ancient carpets in the corridors.
At five o’clock in the afternoon, it was dinner time for all the girls. They were arranged on either side of two long tables, each given a chunk of coarse bread and a serving of cold pea soup.
Mistress Daisy didn’t always stay in the castle, but whether she was in town or not, two tall, silent men with grim faces would monitor the door. They helped in the kitchen and also acted as Mistress Daisy’s enforcers when needed.
Alice had little appetite but slowly finished her bread. After dinner, Daphne, who hadn’t made eye contact during the meal, caught up with her in the corridor.
“Bringing food for your little sister again?” she asked with a hint of provocation.
She knew Alice had been secretly saving her soup for several days, heating it with a candle stub for her sister.
Alice, usually intimidated by the strong-willed Daphne, felt an unusual mix of concern for her sister and accumulated anger, allowing her to respond coldly, “Yes.”
Daphne eyed her suspiciously, as if confirming whether Alice had lost her mind. “You…”
As the crowd began to thin out from the stairs, with the guards some distance away, Daphne seemed to make a decision, her voice low and tense, “You said you had a way?”
Alice stopped in her tracks, appearing calm.
“Yes,” she said.
The castle’s security was unexpectedly weak. For some reason, the castle’s owner seemed to think it was unnecessary to invest much in security. The rabbit-headed shopkeeper spent only slightly more effort to understand the general layout and some “secrets” inaccessible to the girls.
Among the so-called “managers”, there were no proper mercenaries. The men capable of acting as force numbered no more than five, and the kitchen staff and stable boys were hardly a threat.
This was quite contradictory. Although the girls appeared weak due to long-term malnutrition and mental torture, according to Alice, if over thirty girls were determined and courageous enough to unite, they had a chance to revolt successfully.
But no one seemed to have ever considered this before.
This was telling—controlling so many people with non-violent means either meant that Mistress Daisy was a master hypnotist, or she was using magical powers.
The rabbit-headed shopkeeper inadvertently discovered the answer during an investigation (while snacking on some bread). He found a handwritten recipe in a spice cabinet in the kitchen listing several hallucinogenic plants combined with one or two basic magical ingredients. Anyone literate could follow the recipe to brew a pot of potent potion.
It appeared the girls were being drugged through their food.
Such a rudimentary potion might not be very effective at first, but over time, a cumulative effect was inevitable: the will to resist softened, and in worse cases, completely subdued, eradicating all rebellious thoughts.
Charlie rubbed his furry chin. Considering this, the shaking girl Alice, who could still struggle for self-preservation and covertly gather information under such conditions, must either have been clever enough to dump her food or was extraordinarily brave, or perhaps both.
“The ball” was the core secret of the castle. Mistress Daisy once boasted to the girls that only selected guests were invited to participate in the balls held under moonlight.
“They use special invitations to pass through the castle gates, seeing the girls who bloom like flowers under the moonlight,” Alice told Charlie. “Anyone uninvited would only see the cold stone walls, black velvet drapes, and silent furniture.”
In the limited time available, the girl provided the stranger with all the information she could. While Mistress Daisy wasn’t in the castle, the rabbit-headed shopkeeper ascended the long spiral staircase to the top-floor library.
Unlike the guards who could be mistaken for ordinary farmers if they picked up a hoe, the highest floor of the library had an unusually guarded entrance—a tall, straight-backed borug hound with a fierce look.
Just as the rabbit-headed shopkeeper stepped onto the last segment of stairs, the hound perked up its ears and growled lowly—prompting him to immediately retract his step.
A bit of a problem.
These dogs were large, agile, and notably aggressive. They were originally bred for hunting, but because of their ferocity, they had recently become fixtures in the fighting pits of certain underground arenas. With exceptional senses and quick reactions, it was nearly impossible to slip past one into the gap between it and the wall behind it without alerting it, even though he could see the dark walnut door behind it.
The girls might have no way to deal with such a terrifying creature—just hearing its barks from a distance was enough to keep them away from the top-floor corridor.
Unfortunately for it, dealing with hounds was precisely what rabbits excelled at.
The borug hound was physically strong but notoriously distractible—a trait it had yet to overcome. Charlie hid at the corner of the stairwell, listening intently to the sounds from the study while discreetly pulling a wind-up pocket watch from his pocket. The clock showed it was nearing midnight. Due to frequent use, the watch gleamed under the candlelight, making it quite conspicuous.
He dismantled the watch case, fiddling with the gears for a moment until four spring-loaded, suction-cupped, slender legs popped out from the sides of the now oval watch—it was a peculiar gadget he had acquired from a nearly bankrupt shop near the border during his travels across the continent. The shop was filled with bizarre mechanical trinkets that operated mainly on mechanics, noted for their unusual uses and low production.
Locals considered it a novelty joke shop and rarely patronized it, but the rabbit headed shopkeeper saw these gadgets as no less intriguing than magical artifacts and had negotiated a fair price for them.
The transformed watch, resembling a glittering golden spider, was set down by Charlie and swiftly scurried away. Five seconds later, the loud alarm rang out, almost simultaneously followed by the hound’s barking.
Charlie, pressed against the wall, waited until the hound chased the watch towards another staircase before darting into the corridor and turning the doorknob.
Mistress Daisy’s study was as he had envisioned it—walls up to the ceiling covered in deep purple wallpaper, decorated with many ornate plates, mostly featuring intricate patterns. The room was cluttered with several walnut desks and cabinets haphazardly placed, including a single desk without a chair that held only a large black leather-bound book and another desk that held a teapot and alarm clock. Only one desk looked actively used, equipped with an ink bottle and quill pen. All the desks were draped with lace cloths.
Upon entering, Charlie understood why the hound hadn’t detected him immediately while he was on the stairs. The room’s fireplace was out, but the air was filled with a heavy aroma of mixed spices, almost pungently overwhelming. This scent nearly pervaded the space, insurmountable even by the front door, causing any fine sense of smell to falter after prolonged exposure.
Charlie quickly shut the door behind him. Perhaps the owner was overly confident in the hound’s capabilities, as most drawers in the study were unlocked. He casually opened one, mostly filled with various styles of envelopes, along with a few documents and newspapers.
The rabbit-headed shopkeeper didn’t sit down but stood by the desk, examining a letter that had already been written. The ink bottle was capped, and the quill was neatly placed in its holder, prompting him to lean in to read the letter.
Respected Mr. Fritzsche,
We have received your donation for the girls’ school. The funds will be used for repairs to the school ceilings and purchasing outing dresses for the students.
As a token of our appreciation, I cordially invite you to join my tea party on the third Friday of this month to discuss details concerning the procurement of the spring outing dresses.
Yours faithfully,
Daisy Miller
There was no spare blank envelope next to the letter, nor anything that looked like an invitation.
After pondering for a moment, Charlie placed the letter back on the desk and turned his attention to a cabinet beside the desk. The top drawer’s handle was notably smoother than the others. Quietly rifling through various files, he managed to find useful information and left the study unnoticed before the watch lured the hound back.
Although the watch’s springy legs were thin, they were fast—it moved like a real spider across the carpet, ringing intermittently just when the hound was about to lose its trail.
The hunting instinct completely distracted the hound from its guard duties. It chased the watch around several times, and by the time it returned panting to the study door, Charlie was already pocketing the nearly wound-down watch at the staircase.
The documents and letters in the study offered much more detailed information than Alice had provided. He now had a good understanding of the true nature of the castle—Mistress Daisy was using terror tactics to control the girls, forcing them to stay and serve the guests like dishes on a buffet at her parties.
Meanwhile, she masqueraded as a benefactor who established a boarding school for young girls orphaned from their families, using her role as headmistress to mingle with local dignitaries for donations and investments.
Fortunately, this wicked woman was so paranoid that even the castle’s “managers” weren’t allowed in the upper corridors—she trusted only the simple-minded, strong-bodied hound, perhaps believing only an animal could truly keep her secrets.
Unfortunately for her, she encountered the rabbit-headed shopkeeper.
Always considering himself quite capable, Charlie felt his evening’s goals had been largely met. He adjusted the top hat on his head, climbed over the cold walls, and took one last look at the dark silhouette of the castle in the night before leaving.
He pressed the half-sheet of paper in his coat pocket—the names of the guests for Daisy ‘Headmistress’ Miller’s next tea party were scribbled there.
Only those individuals possessed the invitations needed to attend the party.
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