I had been at the manor almost a week, sticking to my room and having the golems bring me food when I needed it, but doing very little else. I had no real interest in talking to the other witches, not cause I was better than them or anything like that, but I don’t know… I just didn’t think they’d want to talk to me either anyways. Gabby and Kara were all I really needed, and goddess did I need Kara, or at least I needed those incredible massages. I didn’t get them every night, but when she did give em to me it was so freaking good.  Guess you can say I’d become a bit soft just laying about and I was starting to get bored with it. So one morning, after Kara had gone to attend to her usual business, I made like a sleuth and began to take in my surroundings. Of course I had seen all the awesome things the room had to offer when I first arrived. I had spun around, as I mentioned, soaking in the majesty of it all, but I largely ignored the finer details. There was a whole bunch I could explore in just this single room. It was massive after all. I felt a bit giddy walking around what was officially my room, well our room, but still mine. 

Searching through cabinets and drawers, it had dawned on me, kinda late I’d hate to admit, that the room had been lived in. The armoire was just filled with fancy silk and fur clothes, whoever was here before me was loaded. The writing desk, not to be confused with the make up desk, had a bunch of papers with times and dates and all sorts of complicated money stuff scribbled on them. Yes, my genius mind deduced this room certainly had been occupied, not just by a guest staying the night, but was, like, actually lived in. Just a sliver of guilt started to ball up in me, as I considered the real possibility that I had taken some other workers’ living space. Or, if there were others being sent on dangerous missions like I was, then maybe the previous tenant died. Though I think the former was more likely... I knew that Josie girl had been down the hall, and Reli had also been given a new room in the same hall as us. And based on the makeup and clothing, or his own lack of clothing, it certainly didn’t belong to that Dario guy. I decided, going against common decency or any sort of respect for privacy, to examine the contents of the writing desk and see if I could figure out who lived here first. Maybe it was so I could apologize, or maybe it was so I could know who to avoid, it’s better to not make enemies when you’ve only just settled after all. All in all, I’d have felt a lot better if I knew it was just some cheesebag, and not one of the cooler people I had met there.

Lifting up the hardwood top, the hinges didn’t make a sound. As I should have guessed, the desk was great quality and pretty well maintained, like everything here. Inside was a whole truckload of letters, receipts, logs, and even books. I wasn’t about to spend hours pouring over every last piece of paper it contained, so I snatched up a handful, went over to a sofa and began reading.

The bulk of what I grabbed seemed to be more ledgers and receipts, mostly for food and clothing expenses. It wasn’t until the third or fourth one that I noticed they weren’t being sent to the manor, but seemed to be going to some orphanage out in the third circle. Guess that makes the previous resident a philanthropist, or whatever it’s called? My suspicion was confirmed when I stumbled across construction costs, again not for the manor. “Whoever this belongs to seems to be spending a ton of money on building this orphanage.” I thought aloud.

“Doesn’t the church usually handle those sorts of things?” Gabby inquired, laying her head on my shoulder.

“Yeah, though from what I’ve heard they’re basically just work camps for children.” The clothing, food, and other items shown here were honestly just as lavish and top quality as the furnishings and food at the brothel. I flipped through a couple more before coming across an open envelope. Inside it was a letter. 

“Don’t you think reading that is taking things too far?”

“Hey my room right? So I say it’s free game.” Gabby gave me a pretty distasteful glare, but didn’t protest any further, she just sighed. I think I reached a new low that day...

At first, looking at it, I thought it was way too long to read... until I saw who it was addressed to.

“To my dearest friend, Setiel,” I read, “Mom? This letter was for my mom!” 

“Are you certain dear? It could be a coincidence.” Gabby squished herself closer to me, leaning in to read it herself.

“No way, it definitely is. Look, it says something about dad too!” I only had to skim the letter before I saw my dad’s name show up. “That can’t be a coincidence, how many Setiels do you think married Jacobs?”

“Are those common names?” I just glared at Gabby, hoping she was joking.

Realizing this, I took to reading the whole letter, every word of it. 

“To my dearest friend, Setiel,

No, I am not at all angered with you, I could never be. The letters you’ve sent me, the experiences you’ve had, they’ve inspired me. There’s so much of the world that I have never known, having been confined within the walls of the sanctum, and I feel I have lived through you by proxy of your experiences. I am also overjoyed to hear you are with child, I pray they are healthy, and that the Goddess blesses your family. I’m sure Jacob is as overjoyed as I am. I wish I could come to you, to see you, and to meet this man who has found such a strong place in your heart. I have been canonized, I am no longer simply “elect”, and so they will continue to keep me here to protect me from the corruption of the outside world. You, however, have taught me the world is not the corrupt place the elders speak of. There is beauty beyond the malice. And most importantly you have helped me to understand the true nature of love. I wish that I too could meet her, to become close to her as you have, to witness her teachings, her miracles. All the letters you have sent me have painted this wondrous, mystifying, and immaculate picture of her. She truly is a woman with hidden wisdom, knowledge that the church would never let be known. I now have that knowledge, and it is entirely thanks to you my love. The last thing I’d like to address, perhaps the thing you’ve certainly been most afraid to tell me, how you became a witch. You do not have to worry, your superiors will never know. I have made certain to remove your name from any records that would otherwise indicate you as part of this operation. To the elders, should they discover our ruse, you are nameless, just one of many potential candidates. I may not have the power to control my own life, but I can keep yours safe. You are secure my darling. I love you, now and forever, in the Goddess, and in my own heart. May the light of the Goddess shine down upon us both, and may her love fill our hearts.”

“So then dearest, who do you suppose these belong to?”

I shook my head, “It doesn’t say.” I exhaled deeply through my nose. What was the writer talking about? Operation? What was my mother a part of? I groaned as something began kicking around in my stomach like a sand storm going full force on a little town. Setiel MacArthur, my mother, who died twenty years ago, was a stranger to me. I thought I knew her, but reading this only reminded me that I really didn’t. She was a witch. That’s the extent of it. One of my earliest memories in life was the day she was taken from me. Killed for being a follower of that damn Witch Queen! And this writer, this sender, this friend, was she also a follower of the Witch Queen? And why was this letter here? The frustration of knowing so much, yet so little. Of not being able to understand anything. It was too much! I crumpled the letter, tore it up. Reduced it to mere shreds falling on my lap, the sofa, and floor. 

“Shana, darling, what is it you are doing?” I was so caught up in my anger that I didn’t even notice Kara coming back into the room. “Have you been rummaging through my desk darling?

Her desk? This was her room? My anger had suddenly been overtaken by a new sense of absolute stupidity. Of course the most luxurious room in the manor was hers! “Wait, but I thought the throne room was your room?”

She chuckled and shook her head, “No dear, I could never be so bold as to claim that room for myself.” She sat next to me, opposite from the side Gabby sat, placing her arm around my shoulder. “You seem troubled, love, and what is this mess of confetti?”

“I...” I’m not sure if I was embarrassed or still angry, either way it was hard to form the right words, “I found a letter to my mom. And...”

“You were bothered by the words?” She began to stroke my cheek. “Darling, you can speak whatever is on your mind. Do not think of me as unapproachable. I am always here for you.”

“Why do you have a letter that was for my mom?” I began with that. Maybe it wasn’t the most perplexing thing at the moment, but it was probably the simplest place to start.

“It was standard to keep a copy of your letters within my business, for your records should anything happen,” She answered, but didn’t really elaborate further.

“So you knew my mother?”

“And your father, yes. We were very close friends,” She smiled, “you are a lot like her you know. Brave, energetic, cocky beyond all belief.” My cheeks were turning red as she laid on the compliments.

“Hey, don’t distract me from the point here!” I shook my head, “what’s all this about anyways?”

“She was an employee of mine, you could say.”

“You mean in the brothel?”

She laughed, shaking her head, “no, no sweetie, I’d have never asked your mother to... no. This was long before I founded the Angel Kiss manor.” She added, “also I do hope you see this as more than just a brothel. This is your home after all.”

“Okay, yeah sure.” She was very insistent on the family thing, though I suppose that was a good thing. “So then what were you doing?”

Her ever present smile faded, and her piercing eyes looked a bit dull, “It was a dark time. Just know, that whatever we were back then, we are not that any longer. Your mother was a wonderful person, and she helped me to grow into the person I am now.” A soft smile returned to her face, though there was a slight sadness behind it. “I owe her my life, she, as well as another, were like mentors to me. Everything I am, everything I know, every little ounce of my being, I owe to Setiel. Setiel, and the Witch Queen.”

“So, you were one of the Witch Queen’s followers?” That name tasted foul in my mouth.

“I was, as you have learned your mother was as well.” 

I nodded my head, “Yes, she was. And now she is dead.” She wrapped her arms tightly around me, burying my face into her breast, and stroking my long hair.

“Darling, I know you are hurt, you are bitter. You believe that your family was taken from you because of the Witch Queen. You believe you have lost everything. You have not.” She reassured me, “you have not lost everything. Let go of your bitterness, let out your pain. You have been carrying this burden for years. I am here, we all are here, for you. Always.”

There was no magic at play, only the powerful warmth of her love. Love I did not feel I deserved. We’ve known each other for a week. Yet she treated me like I was some personal treasure. Who the hell was this woman? A prostitute, a witch, the leader of a criminal empire, a disciple of the Witch Queen? Who was she really? I guess none of that mattered. No answer would change what happened to me at that moment, as I cried in her arms.