"Master."
Princess Margaret called out softly, her voice filled with an unprecedented tenderness.
Murphy watched the unexpected scene unfold, a dozen thoughts flashing through his mind.
He asked tentatively, "Do you rember who you are?"
Margaret tilted her head slightly, a docile smile on her face. "I am your slave, Margaret. Just call Maggie, Master."
As she spoke, she leaned in, but Murphy caught her slender wrist just in ti.
Murphy stared into her hazy eyes and pressed on, "What is going on? Why are you calling Master?"
"Because I’ve finally found you," Margaret said, a strange light glinting in her eyes. "All these years, I’ve been using [Control Human] to command others, but deep down, I’ve always been filled with contempt for those I controlled. They’re filthy, beneath . I wouldn’t even let them touch a sliver of my skin; it would disgust ."
Her voice grew agitated. "But sotis, I’d find myself imagining... what if our roles were reversed? What would I be like? But I’m a noble princess! How could I possibly let those lowly creatures touch ?"
Margaret leaned forward, her legs, wrapped in black silk stockings, pressed neatly together. "But things are different now. I’ve found my true master. You are so powerful you can even counter my Magic..."
She reached out with her free hand and gently caressed the lapel of Murphy’s shirt. "Please, let serve you, Master. I will be your most loyal slave."
’It seems the Magic’s backlash isn’t just about control,’ Murphy thought calmly, watching her actions. ’It’s also unlocked so secret, deep-seated part of her psyche.’
"Tell ," Murphy said, remaining vigilant, "what do you rember about Archbishop John?"
Margaret tilted her head, thinking for a mont before breaking into a sweet smile. "That stubborn old man? He was always preaching. So annoying. But none of that matters now. All I need is my master."
Her fingers traced a light path down his sleeve, her voice growing even more sultry. "Please, Master, let prove my loyalty to you. I’ll make you feel things you’ve never felt before..."
Murphy frowned slightly. His original plan had simply been to stop Princess Margaret from digging into his secrets and, ideally, get so leniency on the tax issue.
He never could have predicted a situation like this.
"Margaret..." Murphy began.
"Please, call Maggie," she interrupted imdiately, her eyes shining with anticipation. "That na is for my master alone."
Murphy had no choice but to correct himself. "Maggie, what would happen if the Royal Family or the Archbishop found out about your condition?"
This was the most important question.
Regardless of how far beyond his expectations things had gone, this was a reality he had to consider carefully.
Margaret gave him a mysterious smile. "Master, that is the last thing you need to worry about." She gracefully stepped away from him and spun around lightly, her wine-red skirt flaring out like the petals of a flower. "Do you know why [Control Human] is the most feared Magic? Because its influence is insidious."
Her voice was as soft as the night wind. "A person’s personality is determined by their mories, and it is mory that guides their choices. If the control exerted by [Control Human] goes against a person’s true nature, then after the Magic is dispelled, in a mild case, they might deny their actions during that period. In severe cases, it can cause schizophrenia, leading to a serious conflict between two mindsets."
"But if..." A cunning glint flashed in her eyes. "If the Casting process aligns with a person’s deepest desires, then even if the Magic’s effects are dispelled, it’s useless."
Margaret’s eyes, moist and glistening, gazed at Murphy as her red lips parted slightly. "So, Master, what is your choice? Do you want to stay like this, or beco your enemy...?"
Her words trailed off aningfully, awaiting Murphy’s response.
The sound of the wind and snow outside seed to fall silent at that mont, leaving only the CRACKLE of firewood in the hearth.
Murphy stared into her deep eyes and asked slowly, "Is this truly what you want?"
Margaret chuckled softly. "If it weren’t, have you given any orders to the contrary, Master?"
Murphy fell into deep thought.
He recalled the earlier scene. When Margaret used [Control Human], she had indeed only issued directives, influencing through commands rather than directly altering mories.
This aligned with what he had learned about the Magic’s effects from Saren.
Seeing Murphy still hesitating, Margaret moved closer again, her warm breath brushing against his ear. "If you truly intend to be my master, then you should make your decision soon."
"What decision?" Murphy asked in a low voice.
Margaret breathed softly into his ear, her voice laced with temptation. "To make your true slave, in body and soul..."
Murphy frowned slightly. "Your age..."
"Master!" Margaret imdiately put on an aggrieved expression. "Am I too old? I’ve taken very good care of myself. You can’t even tell I’m already twenty."
Murphy gazed at her delicate features, her long black hair, her deep black eyes, and the face that bore such a striking resemblance to Othilia’s, and finally said softly, "No, it’s just right."
「anwhile, in the forest outside Baron Duval’s Castle, snow was falling heavily.」
In a hidden burrow, a black-furred wild rabbit, its winter stores running low, was forced to venture out in search of food.
It cautiously poked its head out, its pink nose twitching in the cold wind.
However, the rabbit didn’t know that not far from its burrow, a hungry tundra viper had been lying in wait for so ti.
Awakened from hibernation by hunger, it too was forced to hunt.
The tundra viper was coiled in the snow, blending in perfectly with its surroundings.
The mont the rabbit darted out of its burrow, the tundra viper struck like lightning.
But the bitter cold had made its movents slightly sluggish. At the last possible second, the rabbit swerved sharply, narrowly dodging the fatal blow, and scrambled back into its burrow in a panic.
The tundra viper was not about to let such a rare al escape and imdiately pursued it into the burrow.
After a struggle in the narrow confines of the burrow, it finally sank its fangs into the rabbit’s neck.
Warm blood spurted out, blossoming into crimson flowers on the white snow that swirled inside.
...
The next day, before dawn, Murphy awoke in the dim light to an unfamiliar warmth and weight in his arms.
By the faint glow of the embers in the hearth, he saw the long, black hair fanned out on the pillow beside him and could not help but sigh softly.
The mont the sigh escaped his lips, Margaret’s eyes fluttered open.
"Master," she called out softly, her voice laced with a seductive charm.
She lifted a slender hand to gently caress Murphy’s cheek, her eyes filled with obsession and affection.
"You are still set to depart for White Maple Territory today," Murphy reminded her.
But Margaret buried her face in his shoulder like a cat clinging to its owner. "I just want to stay by my master’s side..."
"Maggie!" Murphy’s voice suddenly turned cold. "Rember my command."
His words made Margaret instantly pull back. The obsession in her eyes vanished in a flash, replaced by an almost instinctual obedience.
As they got up, Margaret took the initiative to ask, "Please allow Maggie to help Master get dressed."
After a mont’s thought, Murphy agreed.
After last night, he clearly understood that he had to maintain an air of absolute authority with Margaret.
The mont he showed even a hint of gentleness, she would imdiately push her luck, testing the boundaries.
What was more vexing was that she seed to relish his stern rebukes. Even after being criticized, she would quickly revert to her old ways, as if this feeling of being restrained and disciplined was exactly what she wanted.
Sure enough, while adjusting his collar, Margaret deliberately slowed her movents, her pearlescent nails grazing almost imperceptibly against the side of his neck.
"Faster," Murphy chided in a low voice. Only then did she obediently continue her task.
Once they were both dressed, Margaret had changed back into her wine-red velvet long dress, the black stockings clinging perfectly to the lines of her legs. She seed to have transford back into the noble princess.
Standing before the door, Murphy said sternly, "Once you step through this door, you are Princess Margaret, not Maggie. Understand?"
"Rest assured, Master. Maggie understands," Margaret replied with a slight nod, though a cunning glint flashed in her eyes.
Margaret was the first to push the door open, but she stopped in the doorway.
"Your Highness, what is the aning of this?" Murphy asked with a frown, then calmly strode past her.
The instant he stepped out of the room, by the light of the flickering torches in the hallway, he caught sight of a familiar blond figure at the far end of the corridor.
The mont the figure saw him appear, it imdiately turned and walked away.
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