"Let''s go," Shanley said, leaning down to face the pouting girl. He soothed her


    gently, "The fact that he answered that way proves the nt exists. Otherwise, he would have just said, ''We don''t have it.""


    "That''s the only reason I didn''t say something harsh to that pretentious jerk," Juniper muttered through gritted teeth. With anything else, she would have preferred to let her fists do the talking.


    "That herb seems to be very important to him," Shanley said, guiding Juniper out with a hand on her waist. "It''s alright. We''ll try again."


    If money couldn''t persuade him, they would find another way. Everyone had a weakness.


    "Otherwise..." Juniper said as she walked, her brow furrowed and her expression dark, "why don''t you just shell him with cannons a few more times?"


    If the soft approach didn''t work, they''d use force.


    "Don''t be ridiculous," Shanley chuckled, amused. He gave her waist a light squeeze. "Warren is the type who doesn''t respond to carrots or sticks. The more you provoke him, the more he''ll push back. What if he destroys it in a fit of rage? Haven''t you learned that lesson before, Specter?"


    Juniper fell silent. He was right. When they hadpeted for the herbs back then, Warren had shown absolutely no mercy. That''s what had provoked her into taking the whole lot.


    "Fine, we''ll try talking again," Juniper said, taking a deep breath. For Ebony Fox''s sake, she would try to be patient.


    Far away, on the top floor of the castle, Warren stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, a cup of coffee in hand. He squinted as he watched the group by the car below. He was particrly focused on the girl. Her face, her voice... they bore a striking resemnce to Celine.


    "My Lord, the Madam is here," a voice said from behind as the door opened.


    Warren turned to see the graceful and beautiful young woman walking towards him with a radiant smile, holding a pot filled with soil and a single nt.


    "Madam, that''s covered in dirt..." A subordinate panicked. Because the Lord was a notorious neat freak.


    "Don''t touch it," Celine Sherwin said, dodging the subordinate''s hand as her smile vanished.


    "Let here in," Warren said, instinctively extinguishing the cigarette between his fingers. The coldness on his face melted into a gentle smile.


    "Yes, sir." The subordinate left, closing the door behind him.


    "Is this for me?" Warren took the dirty pot with one hand and held Celine''s hand with the other, his voice soft and tender.


    "Mhm," Celine nodded emphatically, her clear eyes sparkling with a brilliant light. She smiled with pure, innocent joy. "It''s for you, my husband."


    "Good girl, Celine."


    Warren stroked Celine''s head, his tone like he was cooing at a child. And he was, in a way.


    Celine had been sent to Liberty


    Ind the same year he was. His


    father had an affair, and the


    mistress had shown up at their door, causing his mother to die from the shock and rage. Right after the funeral, the mistress moved in brazenly, taking over his mother''s


    room. She even burned his mother''s memorial tablet, iming it was bad luck.


    He was thirteen that year. He had personally dealt with the


    unrepentant woman who had destroyed his family His father, devastated, fell and son passed away. Immediately, his rtives descended like vultures, fighting over the family fortune and colluding to have him sent to Liberty Ind.


    ???


    On the day he arrived, he met Celine. She didn''t have a name then; people just called her the ''little fool.'' An ident had caused severe brain trauma, damaging her nerves and leaving her with the mental age of a


    six year old, Her parents and origins,


    were unknown. The story was that she was sent to Liberty Ind for repeated ''violent behavior.''


    As two fellow orphans adrift in the world, they began to rely on each other.