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"Did you finish it, Penny?" asked Maggie who had been standing out in the balcony of her room since the time of the assignment was handed down to Penny.

"Yes, Lady Maggie," Penny responded back looking down at the parchment sheet she had finished answering. The woman appeared inside with her dress that was made of chiffon flew in the wind facing towards the room.

Lady Maggie had been helping Penny with basic language use of Bonelake and Woville as they consisted of similar heritages. Damien had not given any solid information on why he was making Penny take classes, which his sister Maggie wasn\'t aware of. It was a simple reason if one knew that Penelope was a white witch. Though not many knew but both black and white witches had descended down to the lands from the north where Woville was situated. They had a different dialect in writing when it came to writing it and not everyone was fluent with it.

Maggie being the oldest child had the opportunity to learn something which even Grace hadn\'t found as the governor was killed upon learning that she was a white witch by her own biological mother.

Penny was able to read the theatrical script easily as she had gone through it several times whilst asking her fellow actors on what each word meant. But it were only some of those which was exposed to during her time in the theater.

Lady Maggie who was going through the parchment which Penny had written her answers on hummed, not showing any disapproval nor an approval on if she had gotten the answers right, "There are some errors but we\'ll work on it tomorrow," said the vampiress dropping the paperback on the desk while moving away so that Penny could stand up.

"Thank you for today\'s class, Lady Maggie," Penny bowed her head to show her appreciation.

"You are welcome. I have never tutored anyone that makes it that much interesting to have myself teach you what I have learned. At least there\'s another way to kill time now," the lady added in the end, "You know a little thing already which made it easier. It is rather late. You should be heading back before Damien comes to knock on the door."

Penny doubted that Damien was back home. For an odd reason since the time he had marked her with the bond which she still had no clue of if it was the master-slave bond, she could feel him in the house sometimes after he returned back. It made her question what kind of mark this was. Did the bond work both ways? Maybe once he returned back she should try testing it out.

"Thank you for taking the time to teach me," Penny thanked her again where the lady only smiled in return. As she headed towards the door, she heard Lady Maggie ask suddenly out of the blue,

"How have things between my brother and you going?"

It was a question she hadn\'t expected. Lady Maggie usually didn\'t poke at anyone\'s business but with the person whom she was concerned was her brother here. Not to forget the locket that this slave girl wore which was the very family heirloom that her once deceased mother wore while she was still alive, she couldn\'t help but be curious about it.

"It is okay," Penny caught the lady looking at the pendant that now rested on her chest.

"I see. We will go through today\'s paper tomorrow in the afternoon."

The answer was a curt one which suddenly turned the already dark room a little more gloomy and awkward. And she then sensed him. Damien had reached the mansion. Taking her leave from the room after wishing the lady a night, she walked towards Damien\'s room. She knocked at the door and opened to find him not in his room.

"How was your study with Maggie?" she heard the voice right behind her making her snap her body to see Damien standing there with his hair that looked ruffled due to the wind.

Stepping inside the room, Penny closed the door on his action before he went and laid straight on the bed. Lately, he had been leaving the mansion early in the morning to return back late in the night. It seemed like the council and the lands had been busy.

"Welcome back to the mansion, Master Damien," Penny looked at him to see him with his eyes closed as if he were tired. She was about to ask him why he was travelling in the carriage when he could have only apparate until she remembered the amount of blood he needed. Last time after his two glasses, the man had gone to order four more glasses of blood tea that was before going to the party he was invited to, "Who was work?"

"Annoying," he answered before opening his eyes to look up at his own reflection, "There have been more deaths in one of the village."

"How many?"

"The whole of it," the whole of it? "There are a group of witches who have been targeting entire villages. Using them as energy source to do something the council is yet to figure out on. They killed every single one person in there. It is called a massacre."