To the southwest of Paris lies a place called Versailles. Long before "Versailles literature" became famous, it was known worldwide for the Palace of Versailles.
In the Middle Ages, it was only a small village. It wasn't until the 17th century, when Louis XIV built his palace here, that it became a gathering place for nobles from across France and gradually developed.
Today, France no longer has the Sun King, nor the emperor of the First Empire. The palace that once belonged to monarchs has become a tourist attraction, and Versailles has turned into a satellite city of Paris.
On the outskirts of Versailles stands a luxurious estate in classical style, yet passersby on the road in front cannot see this orderly, solemn, and grand manor.
The estate resembles a miniature version of the Palace of Versailles. Its main entrance opens into a marble courtyard, where red brick walls, marble sculptures, and rose-gold decorations complement each other beautifully.
The first floor houses reception halls and various activity spaces, while the second floor contains studies and bedroom suites—private areas.
The interior decoration follows the Baroque style like the Palace of Versailles, though with subtle differences. The estate also has a garden centered around a fountain, where delicate roses bloom in all seasons.
This was the Rosier family's Rose Manor.
Vinda Rosier was born here and grew up here; her parents and ancestors had all lived here. Returning to this estate after decades, Vinda felt a wave of emotion.
Childhood laughter, the power she wielded as an adult; carefree chases among the flowers, from love at first sight to risking everything for it; the brilliance at her peak and the desolation in failure—this manor had witnessed countless stages of Vinda Rosier's life.
Now, Vinda had returned to Rose Manor, where it would witness the final chapter of her life. The past had scattered like smoke, beyond pursuit and not worth recalling. Everything she once cared about was no longer as important as the girl picking flowers in the courtyard at this moment.
A man walked out of the red-brick building. He wore black wizard robes, with a thick beard and hair—when he wasn't speaking, it was hard to even see where his mouth was. Eda had seen this man before, in the cemetery at Little Whinging.
The bearded wizard walked to Vinda's side, bowed, and said respectfully, "Madam, everyone has arrived. We can begin at any time."
Vinda gave a slight nod. The wizard immediately turned and went back into the red-brick building, seemingly to make preparations. Vinda called out to the girl in the courtyard, "Eda, come inside! There are some people you should properly meet."
Hearing the call, Eda stopped picking flowers. Carrying a basket of rose petals, she entered the building together with her grandmother, Vinda. She hadn't picked the roses just for fun—Eda planned to brew some rose liqueur, which would be beneficial for Vinda's health.
The old and the young—the two most distinguished women of Rose Manor—walked through one spacious and luxurious hall after another. Each of these halls spoke of the Rosier family's former glory and ambition.
In an opulently decorated hall, ten witches and wizards sat around a long table, quietly discussing something. When Vinda and Eda entered, they immediately stopped talking and stood to welcome them.
Stepping across the deep red Persian carpet, Vinda took the seat at the head of the table, with Eda seated right beside her. The others sat in pairs opposite each other, extending down the table.
Even with twelve people seated, the area around the table still felt empty. This hall was the largest room in the entire building—it could accommodate many people, yet ironically, it had never once been filled.
Ambition without the strength to match it. Vinda had once done well, but she had also failed in the end, falling just short.
The person seated directly below Eda was the bearded wizard from the garden earlier. The person opposite him was someone Eda had also seen before—aside from Vinda, he was probably the oldest person in the room.
"I believe you have all already met Eda," Vinda said. "She is Louis's daughter, the granddaughter I have been searching for."
It had been more than a week since the holidays began. Eda had only spent three days in Paris, and the rest of the time she had stayed at Rose Manor. She had already met everyone in the room—though she couldn't remember all their names, at least their faces were familiar.
"In a few months, Eda will turn seventeen, and I am getting old," Vinda continued. "From now on, the one you will serve is her—Esmeralda Jessica Twist."
These people were the forces Vinda had kept hidden, originally prepared for Louis. Among them were dark wizards and people with nowhere else to turn—people Vinda had saved through her connections and money.
Vinda had never forced them to stay or leave. She had only one requirement of them: absolute loyalty.
This kind of loyalty sounded somewhat ridiculous and didn't seem particularly effective—far inferior to Voldemort's control over the Death Eaters, let alone Grindelwald and his followers.
But everything these people had today was given by Vinda. If they betrayed her, they would lose far more than they could ever gain. Moreover, among them, aside from three individuals, Vinda had little trust in the rest—they were merely tools, summoned when needed and dismissed when not.
The bearded man was named Sergei, from Eastern Europe. He had been saved by Vinda. Without her, he would either be dead or freezing somewhere in Siberia. Sergei was someone who could be trusted.
The elderly man was named Daniel Dubois, a Frenchman, also saved by Vinda. The Dubois family had only him left alive—it was Vinda who saved him and avenged him. Daniel, too, could be trusted.
There was also a woman seated below Daniel. She was the same age as Louis, named Laura Fournier, also French. Vinda had not saved Laura; she remained here simply because she was still infatuated with Louis—what people might call a devoted admirer.
Laura Fournier was a very charming woman, with a curvaceous figure, firm skin, and a beautiful face. She was also straightforward in personality, making one feel that Louis had perhaps not fully appreciated her.
Time had left little mark on Laura's face, yet she herself had left a long, ugly scar across it—one she inflicted after discovering Louis's body.
No one knew why Louis had fallen in love with the Muggle woman Jessica Taylor, nor did anyone understand why Laura Fournier had scarred her own beautiful face after Louis's death.
These three were the ones Vinda truly intended to leave to Eda. In terms of magic, they were no match for her, but they could provide the kind of support she would need.
No matter what Eda chose to do in the future, having friends alone would never be enough—she would also need people who could handle unpleasant tasks, people she could trust.
In truth, Vinda could have introduced some of her old acquaintances to Eda, but those people were all connected to Grindelwald. Although Vinda had never regretted following Grindelwald, she did not want Eda's life to be marked by that same association.
The men and women in the room all turned to look at Eda, their expressions varied. They had all known this day would come, but they hadn't expected it to arrive so soon. This girl, not yet seventeen, would become the one they served.
The bearded Sergei showed no particular expression. From the moment he first saw Eda, he knew he would devote his life to serving her.
The elderly-looking Daniel watched Eda with a smile. Whatever Vinda said, he would do. Even if Vinda asked him to die on the spot, he would not hesitate to take his own life to demonstrate his loyalty.
Laura, who should have been beautiful but whose face was marred by a scar, quietly folded a paper rose and pushed it across the table toward Eda. This was her declaration of loyalty.
Or rather, it was Laura Fournier's deep devotion to Louis Rosier.
"Of course, I won't force you to swear loyalty to Eda—that kind of loyalty is too cheap," Vinda said. "You have fifteen minutes to consider. Stay or leave. Those who choose to leave will not be troubled, but you will never be allowed to return."
Vinda lightly tapped her knuckles on the table. The sound was not loud, yet it carried authority. She continued, "Those who choose to stay—if you dare to betray, there will be only one path: death. Think carefully."
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