"It seems all these years of magical education have only taught you complacency and petty criticism."
Elder Karkaroff took a sip of his hot tea, his voice neither loud nor soft—just enough to carry over the music to everyone's ears.
"If you can't make your wands perform their proper function, you might as well snap them and go beg in Muggle society."
The sound of him setting down his teacup made every dancer in the ballroom stumble in unison.
"After all, Muggles still have recognized value, while you're nothing but a bunch of pretty, useless waste."
When Lys glanced back through the doorway, she saw elegant dancing and clinking glasses—though slightly odd, she couldn't detect the underlying oppression at all.
Old Karkaroff had been the only one in aristocratic circles to stem the tide when Grindelwald was imprisoned in Nurmengard years ago. Both his power and capability had led Germany's nobility through those dark times, securing them a sliver of survival amid exploitation from other nations.
Even those too young to have lived through that era had been taught by their elders never to voice dissent.
They knew tonight's pathetic display of incompetence had deeply displeased this weathered elder.
"Our education needs to be taken firmly in hand."
Everyone bowed respectfully to the departing elder, then seamlessly continued the unfinished ball.
Seeing it was about time, Lys returned to her seat at the ballroom's edge. Her conversation with the others now bore no trace of her earlier aggression, and through their exchanges, she confirmed several collaborative intentions.
After the banquet ended, back at the lakeside cottage, Lys opened the documents that had appeared on her table. She glanced at the first one and casually set it aside—she'd take it home for her father to review later. She couldn't make sense of terms like cash flow, gross profit, net profit, and losses.
Picking up the next document, Lys saw the signature: El Aibo.
Taking a breath, she didn't even bother reading what goods were being traded—she simply signed her approval and tossed it aside. After a moment's thought, she retrieved it, added a few lines of recommendation, then set it aside again.
Lys reviewed the next few documents more carefully, but still had uncertainties. After consideration, she circled questionable sections in colored ink and returned them to their places.
This was Lys's current work: attending various social functions, securing collaborative intentions, making preliminary judgments, then sending everything back home or having the German side collect them.
Was she important? These documents would all be double-checked—her word wasn't final. Was she unimportant? Without her, these documents wouldn't reach either party's hands...
Looking at the rock-hard biscuits Coco had prepared, Lys couldn't help popping one in her mouth to gnaw on. One piece would take about twenty minutes to finish—just enough time to review these documents.
After rejecting two outrageous trade proposals, Lys began writing to Lulu's mother. Lys had only managed to resolve little Lulu's identity issues in Germany; her mother's wanted status had already been synchronized with German authorities, which Lys couldn't solve.
She needed to ask how things were progressing on Lulu's mother's end, since her own private funds had been severely depleted after coming to Germany and needed quick replenishment.
After handling everything and setting the alchemy lamp's automatic shutoff timer, Lys gathered her letters and documents and returned to her forest home.
She handed the documents to Noah, then went to give Salabold the letter to mail. Lys straightened the disheveled feathers on the silly bird before releasing it.
"Who knows where that stupid bird went fighting again. Next time it returns, I'll have to cage it up to heal—I think it's going bald."
Lys said this with undisguised satisfaction as she collected feathers from the windowsill, then pulled out a bird egg she'd found while tree-climbing on her way home and stuffed it into Gabon's mouth.
Noah was currently holding the little dumpling, changing his diaper—he'd caught the smell halfway through reading documents.
"Dad, still haven't decided on his name?"
"Your mother wants to call him Mus. I disagree..." Noah looked both amused and exasperated.
"What? Like a rodent?"
"No, it's the abbreviated genitive form of muscae from Musca, the Fly constellation. She says this little thing is as annoying as a fly."
Lys tried to restrain herself but couldn't—she burst out laughing.
Not because of the little dumpling's name, but because of her mother's consistent attitude toward both children.
This made her happy.
Noah didn't mind. After putting fresh pants on the constantly kicking little one, he continued: "I want to call him Amonlite—opal—but though Senna hasn't said anything, she doesn't seem particularly fond of it."
Tucking the tidied little one into his basket, Noah asked Lys: "Any suggestions, little star?"
Lys thought for a moment, then offered the best wish she could give this brother: "How about Freedom? I hope he has the freedom to be himself."
Noah's hand paused over the documents. "That's a good name. I'll discuss it with Senna when I get the chance. Oh, and don't provoke Senna these next few days—the little one used magic to overturn her cauldron, and she's furious."
With that topic concluded, the two discussed the documents at hand before retiring for the night.
Lys's room wasn't in the main house—when she'd transported both buildings, she'd chosen to live in the smaller two-story house.
But the two houses were close, sharing a single courtyard.
Walking back, Lys ran her hand along the slender fruit tree she'd also brought over, loosening its soil under the moonlight and scattering fertilizer.
Looking at the tree's thin trunk, then at her own legs, Lys fell silent.
After a moment, she dumped another entire bag of fertilizer around it.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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