Burning Desires of the Amethyst Witch

"This is your home?" Dravisha sneered over the din. "It's dreadful."

Jenny nodded, her expression grim. "The richer districts are better. It's only this bad in the poor quarters."

As they crossed several bridges and navigated crowded intersections, the atmosphere began to shift. The oppressive smog thinned, replaced by fresher scents—baked bread, blooming flowers, and polished wood. The cobblestones gleamed underfoot, scrubbed clean by unseen hands. Flower boxes adorned windowsills, their vibrant blooms spilling over wrought-iron railings. Even the people seemed different here: elegantly dressed nobles strolled leisurely, their faces free of the strain visible in the poorer districts. But Jenny still found the unsettling stare of gargoyles on nearly every building.

They went up to a small mansion at the corner of an intersection. A small black iron spiked fence surrounded the property. Jenny recognized it as Klaus Richter's residence right away. She got off her horse and went up the steps. Jenny's heart raced as she approached the door. She hadn't seen Richter for a while. How would he react to seeing her like this? She was nervous for some reason.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked firmly. It took a while for someone to answer. When the door finally creaked open, Konrad Adlerfürst appeared—a pale-faced man with neat short black hair and an upright posture that exuded confidence. His ominous, dark grey eyes studied her intently.

"Lady Nachtdorn," he said coolly. "What a surprise."

Jenny straightened her posture instinctively, adopting the rigid stance she'd learned to use in Konrad's presence. He had always been strict, almost unnervingly so. As a child, she'd dreaded his disapproving gaze whenever she tracked mud into the house or spoke out of turn. Now, standing before him again, she felt that same unease creep over her. "Greetings, Konrad. Is Klaus home?"

"Not at the present."

"May I come in?"

He looked her up and down, and a scowl appeared on his face. "You reek," he said with disdain. "I'll draw you a bath."

"Umm, thanks, but wait, I also brought a friend," She pointed behind her. "That woman over there."

The butler looked around Jenny at the mounted Demoness, who waved a hand. He sighed, "I'll draw a bath for both of you. Inform the stable boy to tend to your horses. Remove your boots before entering."

Jenny nodded and quickly slipped off her boots before stepping inside. The old mansion appeared exactly as she remembered, though somehow smaller now, likely due to the difference in height perspective. The grand foyer greeted her with its familiar creaking wooden floors, their surface dulled by years of wear but softened by faded rugs scattered across the space. A sweeping staircase curved upward, its dark-stained banister polished smooth from decades of use. Portraits of stern-faced ancestors lined the walls, their painted eyes seeming to follow her every move. The air carried a faint scent of beeswax candles mingling with the mustiness of age, as though the house had been carefully maintained but rarely updated.

Dravisha entered behind her, her steps silent against the worn floorboards. Despite her demonic nature, she moved with practiced grace. "Cozy place," she remarked dryly, glancing around with mild amusement.

After being shown to separate bathing chambers, Jenny sank gratefully into her steaming bath. Not only did it wash away the dirt and grime of their journey, but the warm water soothed her aching bones and muscles. Konrad had added rose nectar to the water, filling the room with a delicate floral fragrance that calmed her frayed nerves. For the first time in days, she allowed herself to relax.

Dravisha, on the other hand, didn't truly need a bath. As a demon, she could cleanse herself instantly with magic. But when Konrad insisted, she complied with mock resignation, lounging in the tub with feigned boredom. "If the butler insists, who am I to argue?" she quipped, smirking to herself.

After their refreshing baths—for Jenny at least—they were provided fresh gowns. Their origin remained unclear, but Jenny assumed they were meant for unexpected visitors. She didn't press the matter, choosing instead to focus on the comfort of clean clothing.

They reconvened in the living room, a cozy space dominated by a crackling fireplace. Plush armchairs and a couch surrounded a low table laden with snacks: bread rolls, fruits, cheeses, dried sausages, and biscuits, accompanied by fine herbal tea. The warmth of the fire and the aroma of the food created an inviting atmosphere that momentarily eased Jenny's worries. Together, the pair snuggled close by the fireplace.