Masa Ed watched as Margaret approached and stopped a fair distance in front of the large sofa, facing Lady Jasmine, whose attention remained fixed on the black box resting on the table to Margaret’s right.

  He studied Margaret openly, scrutinizing her from head to toe. His gaze lingered on her long, shapely legs tightly fitted by black suit pants, then rose to the cleavage of her ample chest revealed by an unbuttoned shirt beneath a black vest.

  She’s really big.

  The corners of his lips tightened as he suppressed a smile born of reluctant admiration and silent amusement. The contrast amused him—her undeniably feminine figure from the neck down clashing with her androgynous face and her sketchy, stunt-prone personality. The contradiction felt almost illogical.

  Just as his gaze was about to move away, it snapped back.

  Margaret’s eyes were focused on Lady Jasmine. A moment later, Lady Jasmine turned to her and shook her head.

  They must have communicated, He concluded. Just as Snow had transmitted her voice to him earlier, Margaret must have done something similar. Lady Jasmine’s response was clearly a refusal.

  Margaret lowered her face.

  Masa Ed was certain now—she was holding back a happy smile, masking it beneath her practiced expressionless look of authority. Curious whether Plum and Sera had noticed, he glanced first at Sera, who met his eyes with a subtly furrowed brow. Then he looked at Plum.

  Without turning her head, Plum nodded almost imperceptibly and smiled faintly.

  That was enough to make him smile too. She noticed.

  But before his expression could fade, Margaret called out to him.

  “Mr. Black King, we can take your data now.”

  As Masa Ed turned toward her, he noticed something off. Everyone in the room—except Lady Jasmine and Plum—was staring at him in shock.

  Instantly, he understood what that annoying bitch had done.

  By responding to that name in public, he had effectively announced it to the world. Any hope of denying it later was gone unless he planned to silence everyone in the chamber. Not that he’d expected the name to remain hidden for long—but still.

  “Okay,” he replied calmly and stood.

  Payback could wait.

  He followed her, passing behind the veiled witch stationed near the blond boy wearing a mechanical headband, flanked by two cloaked figures. Lady Jasmine and Snow followed behind him.

  Just before entering the partitioned area, Masa Ed glanced back at the woman standing opposite the table, monitoring the meters on the black box connected to the boy. As he did, the witch behind the boy shot him a sharp glare.

  At the same time, Lady Jasmine stepped between them, lightly touched Masa Ed’s shoulder, and gently guided him into the partition. Snow followed her inside.

  “Rasa,” Lady Jasmine said, “you don’t check people’s data without permission. It’s considered offensive.”

  “Oh…” Masa Ed murmured, realizing the witch must be hired to guard the boy and his readings. However, her glare, now that he thought about it, had been more cute than threatening.

  Lady Jasmine’s voice reached him again, transmitted like a soft whisper brushing his ears.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “Don’t let anyone know you can see a witch’s face. In our circle, a man who can see our faces is a dead man. If a witch suspects you can see her face, deny it. You may stare as much as you want if it doesn’t annoy her—but never claim you can see it. Do you understand?”

  “I get it,” Masa Ed said with a soft smile, nodding.

  He stepped closer, rising onto his toes to whisper near her veil strap. “Lady Jas—Mother Jas… some of your veils are see-through. Some don’t even cover the eyes. How can men not see your faces?”

  Lady Jasmine smiled. He could see it clearly through the silk veil that failed to hide her expression.

  Her voice brushed his ears again.

  “It’s not just men. No creature except witches and our Lord can see our faces. What others see is the mystery fog that completely shrouds us. The veil weakens the fog so it doesn’t envelop our entire body—we don’t want people seeing a walking cloud. Your ability is an anomaly… though not the first. Long ago, there was someone else who could see us. He was the unlucky man who bore the name ‘Black’—and had it cursed.”

  “Oh…”

  Masa Ed’s eyes widened slightly.

  So that man could see their faces too…

  Before he could dwell on it, Margaret’s voice cut in.

  “King, come over.”

  He turned left and walked toward the box-like bed beside the device, stopping near its side. Snow stood at Margaret’s other side.

  “So,” Masa Ed shrugged.

  “King, get on the bed,” Margaret said with a playful smile.

  He turned, hopped onto the bed, and sat. As he glanced sideways, he saw Margaret step on Snow’s foot as she moved away—far too deliberate to be an accident.

  She did that on purpose, he concluded, chuckling.

  Snow’s face remained cold as ever, but beneath it lingered sadness mixed with anxiety that had been present since Margaret arrived.

  Masa Ed pressed his lips together, choosing to ignore whatever dynamic existed between them. As he turned away, his gaze met Lady Jasmine’s.

  She smiled knowingly.

  She definitely knows what I’m thinking.

  Margaret returned dragging a golden contraption shaped vaguely like a piano behind her. Masa Ed lay back on the bed, resting his head against the inclined support.

  “King, raise your left hand.”

  He obeyed. She fastened a black bracer-like device around his forearm, connecting it to the contraption with a cable.

  “Your right.”

  Another identical device was secured. Margaret then turned to the screen, Lady Jasmine watching beside her as glowing characters and meters lit up.

  Masa Ed glanced at Margaret, fully absorbed in the data.

  She’s a bully, he concluded.

  He looked at Snow again, but she quickly lowered her gaze. The reaction made him smile.

  Then Margaret spoke.

  “King, take off your clothes.”

  She and Lady Jasmine both looked at him, brows furrowed.

  “Okay.”

  He sat up. Lady Jasmine stepped forward and removed the devices from his arms. He unbuttoned his shirt, removed it, stood, and slipped out of his pants, leaving only his inner shorts.

  As he reached to remove those too, Lady Jasmine stopped him.

  “That will do. Get back on the bed.”

  He complied, lying face-up.

  Margaret fitted a headband-like device over his head as he lifted it slightly.

  “Relax,” Mother Jasmine said softly.

  Standing side by side, she and Margaret focused their attention on his body—specifically, his left chest, where is beating heart is.

  "He isn’t one… right, Night Lady?” Margaret whispered. A faint frown creased her face, carrying a tangle of unease and reluctant curiosity. Her slender finger traced the sculpted plane of Masa Ed’s chest as her eyes drifted, unfocused, as though searching for an answer beyond what she could see.

  

  “No,” Lady Jasmine replied.

  Her own fingers followed similar path, gliding over the firm, lean muscle of Masa Ed’s chest. Her silvery eyes—flecked faintly with green—were not studying the surface, but peering far beyond it.

  “If he were,” she continued calmly, “his inborn seed would have been removed. And clearly, it was not. There is no trace of such a procedure—and we both know what becomes of White Lanterns whose seed is taken before it germinates.”

  She fell silent. Her gaze drifted lower, settling just beneath Masa Ed’s navel. Within her perception, a swirling mass of astral energy revealed itself—pastel gold, dense and slow-moving. His energy reserve.

  “He has the physique of one,” she said at last. “That much is undeniable. Which makes this… strange.”

  As Lady Jasmine lifted her head, Snow—standing nearby—gasped softly and clapped a hand over her mouth, too late to hide her shock. Her eyes darted to Masa Ed.

  He met her gaze and offered a faint, knowing smile before turning back to Margaret and Lady Jasmine.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “Nothing you need to worry about,” Margaret said smoothly. She stretched forward and removed the headband-like device from his temples. “You can follow Snow. She’ll take you to our residence. We’ll sort the rest out tomorrow.”

  “Okay.”

  Masa Ed rose to his feet. At the same moment, Snow stepped forward with his clothes, while Margaret and Lady Jasmine turned their attention back to the golden contraption’s screen.