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The summon from the king. The nusquam. The conspiracies. The Feuerlon's altered memories.
Faustina.
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All of it sent a s.h.i.+ver down his spine, and he could also tell it intrigued his mother too. The moment the spells was done, it was finally the time to plan. He knew it was impossible for the Feuerlon brothers to be included in the altering of memories. He tried to think of a possible spell that could alter a memory, and there is a theory in his head.
An act that will "not" be an act if the latter knew it was. For an instance, a dream do not necessarily have to be a "dream"—a dream can be our form of reality if we do not know it is a dream.
Orwell formulated different theories in his mind, such as hypnosis and dark magic. But he could not discern how it could work. The spells the priestess chanted were words he never heard of before—languages that aren't native to Feuersturm. The spells did not use chaos, a type of dark magic; therefore, Orwell is certain that it is not a forbidden spell.
But he never heard of such thing as a spell as complicated as altering one's memory.
After the incantations, they spoke with Sheila and were instructed in the king's plans. And for the whole day, he hasn't seen Faustina or the king break out of nusquam.
"I cannot believe what happened today." Lovellia says. "We are a part of something so dangerous, Orwell."
Orwell remained silent.
"I believe it is because of your connections to Magierstadt." She says. "Do you think the king suspects you?"
"No," he says. "Rather, he thinks I am beneficial."
"Orwell..."
Orwell stared at the obscurity through his round spectacles, his mind lost in thought.
"This is dangerous." Lovellia says. "Being involved with the Forsaken. But we cannot disobey His Majesty."
Orwell smiled. "So that's it."
"Orwell?"
"Nothing." He answers.
**
After a while, Orwell and Sheila, along with the Diener de Lichts casted a spell to change Faustina's appearance. There is a combination of glamour and variation of spells to create an illusion, along with a manual dying of her hair into an ash-grey combination. The spells were mostly chanted so it could appear as "real" as the ones the d.u.c.h.ess has.
And this was all done in Faustina's sleep.
"She is not waking up." He says. "Why is that?"
"The toll of the medium." Sheila says. "Unlike us, she has a weak const.i.tution. Her magic is also sealed. Not only that, she is also under the devil's trick just few months ago. Her body cannot keep up with all of the things that are laid upon her."
"Hmm."
"What?" Sheila smiled. "You do not believe me?"
"I do not." Orwell answers. "Her constant fainting and her body's consistent losing of consciousness when she encounters the king is too much good of a timing. Her body responds into a proable stimulus that makes her like that. Tell me: is the king absorbing her energy?"
"Bingo."
Orwell's eyes widened. "Then..."
"This is why the king never visits her." She says. "Because the theories were right."
"What?" Orwell says in surprise, as he connected all the past events—the circ.u.mstances in which Faustina and the king dwelled into. Faustina dreaming of the king coming to her room—was it a dream? Or did he come to her chambers, but she drifted out of consciousness because of her energy being absorbed by the king?
"Nightmare absorbs the energy of a Heilen." Sheila says. "It lengthens the lifespan and gives fuel to the person possessing the curse."
"Then how is a Heilen going to 'sustain' the king's life?" Orwell exclaims. "Do you plan to shorten Faustina's lifespan... no, do you plan to kill her?"
"The theories were correct." Sheila retorts, her blank gaze fixated on Faustina. "It is all going according to plan. She will not meet death."
Orwell's brow furrowed in confusion, as the priestess' gaze drifted from Faustina towards him, smiling sweetly.
"Do not exhaust yourself from thinking, Orwell of Lotheringwood."