hapter 101 An Old Friend
**Thelma Zane’s POV**
I’d bet anything that Ryan’s jaw had dropped so low a light bulb could fit inside.
He hastily adjusted his disheveled shirt and pulled the indifferent Carolyn behind him, like a child caught misbehaving. Then, with an air of false authority, he barked, “Why are you here? This is a restricted area! Unauthorized individuals aren’t allowed in!”
“Unauthorized?” Avril responded with biting sarcasm, her smirk sharp enough to cut glass. Oh, I see. The great literary genius has fallen from grace. Used to strut into the drama club like
huh?” you owned the place, didn’t you? Must feel different sneaking around like a rat now,
“You!” Ryd
face contorted with rage, his clenched fists trembling. If it weren’t for our group’s strength in numbers, I was certain he’d have lunged at Avril.
Carolyn, meanwhile, looked more amused than concerned, clearly enjoying the escalating drama. Her expression betrayed no hint of loyalty to the man who had been clinging to her moments ago.
Sensing that things could spiral out of control, I stepped in. “Let’s not cause a scene,” I said. evenly. “This is a shared space, and we should all follow the rules, don’t you agree? Even if you think you’re alone.”
Carolyn let out an exaggerated snort, and Ryan, like a dog desperate for its master’s praise, launched into another tirade on her behalf. His theatrics, however, failed to impress. Ignoring him, we turned to leave, eager to escape the suffocating tension.
Just as we reached the door, Carolyn’s voice cut through the air. “Miss Thelma,” she called out, her tone honeyed but insincere. “I heard from my father that it was you who suggested inviting me to the float parade. I must say, I’m deeply touched.”
“You’re far too kind,” I replied with a practiced smile, my mind racing.
H
Something was off. We had specifically planned to invite Carolyn to the float parade as a last- minute guest, ensuring she wouldn’t have time to prepare or suspect our true intentions. Yet somehow, she already knew.
Had the southern Duke leaked this information? Or did Carolyn possess some hidden method of uncovering our plans? The werewolf grandmasters had detected no unusual activity from the Duke, and Dorothy’s anti–surveillance spells had revealed nothing.
Perhaps the Duke, under pressure from Carolyn, had been forced to reveal just enough to placate her suspicions–a calculated move to protect his commander.
Swallowing my unease, I masked my thoughts and followed my friends out of the opera’s second–floor hall.
ChanderJOT An Old rond
“A float parade?”
Avril and Mara turned to me, their expressions accusing. “Are you betraying the mission?”
“Relax, girls,” I said, raising a placating hand. “It’s just a matter of etiquette. Carolyn is a noble, and so am I. Her father is a Duke, and my temporary guardians are the Lycan King and Queen. This means that our interactions reflect the status of our elders. Sometimes, we have to engage in these tedious exchanges, even if we’d rather not. It’s the price of aristocracy.”
Avril and Mara exchanged skeptical glances but reluctantly accepted my explanation. “So all those historical dramas weren’t exaggerating,” Avril muttered. “Doesn’t sound like nobles have much freedom after all.”
They soon left to watch a boxing club match, leaving Dorothy and me with an excuse to slip away unnoticed. We retreated to the deserted student council office–a perfect spot for private
discussions.
The once–bustling space, now emptied of its usual chaos, felt oddly serene. With the week’s preparations complete, everyone else had gone off to celebrate. But Dorothy and I had work to
- do.
I called my parents to confirm the southern Duke’s status and ask about Carolyn’s unexpected knowledge of the float parade.
As I suspected, the Duke had been forced to disclose part of today’s plan under Carolyn’s relentless interrogation. She had grown suspicious of him, and although she hadn’t uncovered anything incriminating, she had cast a golden circle curse on him–a spell that would alert her if he revealed their conversation to anyone else.
The implications were alarming. If the Duke attempted to warn us, both he and the real Carolyn would be placed in immediate danger.
To counteract this, the werewolf grandmasters had set up a temporary magic circle around the Duke, isolating the spell’s effects and allowing him to communicate with us safely.
“Why didn’t the southern Duke come to the palace for help earlier?” I asked my father over the phone. “Surely the grandmasters would’ve noticed something was wrong with him.”
“I thought the same,” my father admitted, his voice heavy with frustration. “But this situation is… unique. Do you remember Aldrich’s story about the pure white witch who sacrificed herself for Lennon?”
“Yes,” I replied cautiously.
“The spell on Lennon was derived from a pure white spell,” he explained. “The issue is, pure white witches are extraordinarily rare. It’s been almost a decade since one last appeared among the sorcerers.”
I felt a chill run down my spine. “If that’s true, we really have no way of helping the Duke.”
Pure white spells were a peculiar and potent form of magic that only pure white witches could wield. Their unique power composition made their spells nearly impossible to replicate or
counteract.
Dorothy, who had been listening intently, frowned. “Does this mean Carolyn has access to pure white magic? That would make her far more dangerous than we thought.”
“It’s possible,” my father admitted. “Which is why we need to proceed with extreme caution. The Duke’s life–and perhaps many others–depends on it.”
The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on me as I ended the call.
Dorothy broke the silence. “If Carolyn is truly connected to pure white magic, then we need to rethink our strategy. This isn’t just about the float parade anymore–it’s about uncovering who or what is supporting her.”
I nodded, determination hardening my resolve. The game had just become infinitely more complex, and the stakes had never been higher.
