Release That Witch

Timothy Wimbledon was sitting on the throne, with a red gemstone scepter in his hand, looking down at the ministers in the palace hall.     

He thought this feeling was what he wanted, instead of staying in Valencia, entangled with businessmen for trivial matters.     

When he knocked the tip of the pure gold scepter on the polished marble floor, a crisp sound reverberated. He nodded when the attention of the people was on him. "Let's begin."     

"Your Majesty, I have something to report," Knight Weimar spoke first. He was nicknamed "Steelheart Knight", responsible for the defense of the king's city.     

"Go on."     

"Can we suspend the manhunt of witches? Your Majesty, the hunt is getting out of control. Yesterday, I heard that some girls from civilian families were arrested and interrogated in the dungeon. One of them actually died there. Later, it turned out that they weren't witches. Now people in the outer city are panicking. If this continues, I'm afraid people will be fleeing in droves."     

Timothy frowned. It was him who had ordered the hunt of witches. King Wimbledon III's true cause of death was still unascertained so far, but he did not think his father would commit suicide. In particular, the strange smile prior to his death gave Timothy the creeps. The church also confirmed that the God's Stone of Retaliation on his father's wrist was not switched, making it still effective. But these things alone could not completely exonerate the witches.     

When it came to oddness, no one was better at it than the witches.     

He shifted his gaze to Langley, the person leading the witch-hunt and namely the minion trained by him. The latter stood up. "Your Majesty, it was just an accident. I've severely punished the personnel involved." He counted with his fingers. "The warden, the castellan, and the guards have been sentenced to 10 lashings and fined 25 silver royals."     

"One person is dead and three cruelly tortured. But the villains are getting off with just a few whips and some fines?" Knight Weimar said coldly, "and who gave you the right to make that sentence? His Excellency Prime Minister Wyke, or Minister of Justice Lord Pilaw?"     

"Your Majesty! At the unusual time, I have to act unusually." Langley knelt down on his knees, crying out his grievances. "Despite some negligible setbacks, the witch-hunt has been very successful. We've caught at least 15 witches lurking in the king's city. The witches are being tortured. We'll soon be able to know whether they have anything to do with your father's... no, I mean, whether there's a conspiracy."     

Timothy glared at him. The fool had almost exposed his own intentions. Although the ministers in the hall could guess his real purpose, the word to the public should be that the first Prince Gerald had killed the king. He would not allow this point to be overturned.     

"15 witches?" Steelheart Knight scorned in a contemptuous tone. "Very well. Originally the king's city had become the witches' battalion. A few years ago, the church captured only six members of the Witch Cooperation Association during the rounded-up hunt at the forest east of the king's city. It seemed your minions are stronger than the Judgement Army of the church."     

"You…!"     

"That's enough!" Timothy said. He was annoyed with the fool Langley, who had equally foolish subordinates. If he did not lack talents at the start of his throne ascension, he would not have promoted this fool. Even if he had wanted the credit, he should not have faked the numbers. These 15 people were probably the same as those hapless civilian women. He did not want the church to intervene, but there was no other way. "Go to the church and ask Priest Ferry to confirm the identity of those 15 people. Stop all the inquisition and torture. Whenever you arrest anyone, a priest's verification is required from now on. If I find out that you've failed to keep your subordinates in line again, I'll throw you into the king's city moat as fish feed."     

"Well, yes, Your Majesty."     

"Do it now!"     

After asking Langley to leave the hall, Timothy turned to his treasurer. "If anyone of them is wronged, please compensate each with two gold royals, including the previous three persons. Compensate the family of the one who died in prison." He paused and added, "Give one more gold royal."     

"As you wish." The treasurer nodded.     

"Your Majesty is merciful." Knight Weimar also remarked, saluting.     

"Let's move on to the next item." Breathing out turbid air, Timothy noticed his ministers were silent. "Since no one has anything to add, I'll speak." He turned towards to "Umbrella" Sir Bullet, Minister of Foreign Affairs, and said, "The recall has been issued for more than a month, but no one has returned to the king's city. What's going on?"     

Sir Bullet was from the Flynn Family and had remained in his position for three decades. He was old with a head of gray hair, an age where one of his feet was in the coffin. He cleared his throat. "I'd like to report to Your Majesty. I've heard nothing about your third younger sister, Garcia Wimbledon. Your fourth younger brother, Roland Wimbledon, has replied with a letter. His letter said he'll consider returning after the Months of Demons ended, when his subjects are safe and sound." "But..."     

"But what?"     

"He addressed you as His Highness on the envelope, not His Majesty or the king."     

Timothy could not help sneering. His hopeless brother was still as stupid as ever. If Roland would return and serve him as the king, he could give him a good fief, where Roland might enjoy wealth and honor as a prince. If he did not come back, he should prepare his deathbed as soon as possible. No matter what Roland did, he would be prepared. Roland wanted to return, but did not want to bow his head in submission. What was the use of having a silver tongue?     

"Let him do as he likes." Timothy waved. "How about my fifth sister?"     

"Your Majesty, she's... missing."     

"What? What do you mean?"     

"She initially agreed to leave with the messenger I sent. But a week later, she's gone missing along with her butler and two maids. I've ordered people to look for her. So far there's no information on her whereabouts."     

[How did this happen? Why are they so unwilling to believe me!] Timothy felt like his heart was blocked. Originally, he had had great expectations of this sister, hoping that she would be able to assist him. After all, Tilly had performed extraordinarily smartness from her childhood, even more brilliant than him. Compared to him, she was at a disadvantage to him only in one aspect—she was a girl.     

At first Timothy had been confident in her. From his father's arrangements, he did not intend to involve Tilly in the succession turmoil. She was to be given the domain in Silver City, near the king's city. The business and trade there were ordinary, without condition to keep soldiers. It was strange that his fifth sister would unexpectedly go missing.     

Was this the choice of a smart person?     

"Since she's missing, let the former lord take charge of Silver City. Keep looking for her. I can't let royal blood be stranded with ordinary folk." Gritting his teeth, he tried to suppress his upset. "Then, is my third sister the only one left to refuse to obey me?"     

"Yes, Your Majesty."     

"Since she's so stubborn, then I'd to take some tough measures." Timothy looked to Prime Minister Marquis Wyke. It required the agreement by both the king and prime minister to issue an order on the war. As the prime minister was his largest supporter, it should not be a problem. Timothy said, "I plan to ask Duke Joey in the Southern Territory to dispatch their troops, force Garcia to give up the Port of Clearwater, and escort her back to the king's city."     

Sure enough, Marquis Wyke replied, "The matter shall not be delayed. Your Majesty, please issue your order as soon as possible. The minister for diplomacy will be responsible for executing it."     

Timothy nodded with satisfaction. He was about to call the clerk to draft the document, when they heard the sound of hooves outside the hall. After a burst of noise, a knight in a blue-stripe cloak pushed the door open and marched inside.     

Timothy recognized him, Naim Moor, the famous "Frostwind Knight". He went straight to the center of the Palace Hall, and knelt down on one knee. "Your Majesty, I've just received the news from the south." He breathed a sigh of relief. "Garcia Wimbledon, your sister, defeated Duke Joe Kohl in the Southern Territory, and occupied Eagle City! And... she declared herself as Queen of Clearwater. All the lords have responded in support to her. The Southern Territory's independent!"