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"It's a tranquilizer. It can effectively relieve nervousness. If taken before bed, it can also prevent insomnia and nightmares. I'm sure you've heard that the arrival of the Inquisitor has left many people tossing and turning every night." The herbalist replied, then picked up a kettle from another charcoal basin under the counter and poured a cup of herbal tea for the lady.

Ms. Elise glanced at the old wooden cup without reaching for the tea. Her eyes sparkled as she stared at Hopper and whispered, "Do you have that medicine?"

The herbalist looked down at her with a cold, polite expression on his face. "Which medicine? Madam, what is your condition? I can't prescribe medicine for you without knowing anything. Doing so would be extremely irresponsible to both of us."

The lady glanced at the maid, who tactfully stood outside the door to keep an eye on the situation. She was silent for a moment before speaking in a lower voice than before, "Ms. Hopper, it was Catherine who told me your name and address. It was Catherine of the Capet family."

After Hopper's herbal shop opened, the first noblewoman to visit was the Capetian lady. She was the sister of Sheriff Edmund's Knight of the Horn, and had been recommended by her brother to seek treatment for some unspeakable itching. Hopper was secretly pleased, thinking that opening his shop near Sheriff Square had been a wise move.

The Devil's tone immediately changed. His previously cold face was instantly covered with the kind of fawning smile Iris usually saw on the faces of businessmen. He said, "I see. Please move to the back room so we can discuss this in detail."

Chapter 101 I don't have that kind of medicine

The inner room of the herbalist's shop was not much larger than the outer room. The gentle sunlight shone through the foggy glass of the round window, illuminating a table not much bigger than a round stool, with a shelf covered with clean linen on the table.

"Please sit down, my dear lady," the herbalist said. Her voice was hoarse with fatigue, but somehow it made Lady Elise feel particularly kind and comfortable. Why had she felt so cold just now? Her eyes were so blue, as if they were glowing in the sun.

Elise carefully tucked her rather plump body into the bulgy, comfortable-looking armchair beside the table. Although the furnishings looked a bit dated, she felt increasingly at ease and comfortable inside, as if she had returned to a warm corner she hadn't seen for a long time, without any of the resentment or unfamiliarity she had just felt when she first entered.

The herbalist, with his back to her, pulled out a heavy-looking leather bag from the cabinet and carried it to the table. Elise couldn't help but wonder how such slender arms could lift the bag so effortlessly. The next moment, her curiosity shifted to what the herbalist had taken out. The herbalist handed the bottle to Elise, his voice carrying a certain allure. "Drink it, ma'am. Since you're Kate's friend, you mustn't miss my special drink."

The dirty bottle was small, and the rose-red liquid inside looked like a sip's worth. Normally, faced with something of unknown origin, Iris would have screamed and thrown it away. But today, for some unknown reason, she pulled the cork, tilted her head back, and drank the liquid in one gulp.

The liquid, as pungent as distilled liquor, burned its way down her throat and into her esophagus. Elise instinctively covered her throat, feeling as if heat were radiating from her entire body.

The herbalist reached out and lifted the cloth covering the table. Inside was a mirror polished to a gleaming shine. She gently turned the mirror so that it faced Iris and said, "Madam, let's see the effect."

Elise lowered her hand from her throat and cast her gaze towards the mirror. The reflection was still the familiar self she knew so well, her round, fair face unchanged. Yet, it seemed completely different. Something that could be called vitality was emanating from her eyes, her skin, even every strand of her hair. This vibrant energy made her feel as if a girl twenty years younger, as fragrant and youthful as an apple blossom, was smiling down at her through her skin, which was no longer young.

"You see, dear Kate, I didn't recommend the wrong place, did I?" The herbalist looked at the noblewoman who was staring at herself in the mirror, and a matter-of-fact smile appeared on his face. "I am used to building a trusting relationship with customers first, and then discussing business, especially with a beautiful and noble lady like you."

As she spoke, the herbalist reached out and gently grasped Iris's hand. Her hand, like her voice, had a pleasantly rough texture, and the touch made Iris's heartbeat quicken by two beats.

"What kind of help do you want from me? I have the purest belladonna eye drops, which are absolutely harmless; and I have the whitest lead powder, which has absolutely no trace of flour mixed in it."

Elise finally used her last bit of rationality to look away from the mirror, and then said calmly, "No, Ms. Hopper, I don't want these common small cosmetics."

Hopper's expression instantly became playful. She let go of his hand, leaned back in her chair, touched her lips with her fingers and said, "What do you need? I'm just an ordinary herbalist. I can't give you poison or anything illegal."

The lady was startled by her words and quickly waved her hands, saying, "No, no, no, why would I ask you to provide those things? I just..."

The next words seemed difficult for her to say, and Hopper, in a polite, bewildered manner, waited quietly. The middle-aged woman bit her lower lip, seemingly preparing herself for a long moment before finally speaking in a whisper as thin as a mosquito: "I just wanted to ask, do you have...a love potion?"

Hopper nearly laughed, but she quickly turned it into a cough. She shook her head and said, "No, ma'am. I can't. Nothing in this world can create true love, not potions, not magic. If you need it, I can prepare the best aphrodisiac. Combined with the tonic I just gave you, it's guaranteed to make your lover's interest in you even more intense."

Elise turned her head away in embarrassment at her blunt words, glared at Hopper with a reproachful look, and said shyly, "What are you talking about, dear Hopper? My son is almost old enough to marry you. I no longer have those worldly physical needs."

"It's mainly Mr. Palma. I suspect he's become obsessed with someone he shouldn't be," the lady sighed, oblivious to the fact she'd already revealed her family background. "I don't mind him having a lover, but he's always going out alone at night, and the coachman says he never leaves the Sparkling Star District. He's old enough, and if he were to become romantically involved with any lady, it would be embarrassing for the entire family. So I figured if I could find a potion to temporarily restrain him, that lady would naturally back off."

"I'll keep it a secret," Hopper winked at her. Elise squeezed the herbalist's hand affectionately, as if it were her close friend Katherine, and she giggled.

The herbalist smiled in agreement and then pulled a large bottle from her purse, filled to the brim with a dark liquid. She leaned forward slightly, a mysterious expression on her face. "My dear lady, if you want to keep a man captivated, you don't need to make him obsessed with you. This will do the trick."

Elise took the potion and seemed to regain some of her sanity. She asked worriedly, "What effect will this potion have? Is it poisonous?"

"Calming Potion," Hopper said with a sly smile on his face, "Just one spoonful a day, no more, no less, and Mr. Palmer will remain unmoved even by the evil succubus. You can keep him in your care for as long as you wish."

Elise's eyes suddenly lit up. Without hesitation, she stuffed the potion into her pocket, held Hopper's hand tightly, and said excitedly, "Thank you so much, dear Hopper. How can I repay you?"

"Thank you for your patronage. Five gold coins." Hopper didn't hesitate. The price was indeed quite high, enough for a family of three to live and eat comfortably in the Green Shade District for a year. But Iris didn't find it expensive at all. She even secretly felt sorry for Hopper, thinking it was too cheap.

As they walked out of the inner room, Iris held Hopper's hand tightly, unwilling to let go. "My dear, your talents shouldn't be buried in the Green Shade District. I can help you find a good house in the Sparkling Star District."

The herbalist smiled but said nothing. He took out a narrow-necked bottle from his apron and placed it in Iris's hand. He said, "Thank you for taking care of your business. This bottle of tonic potion is a gift for you."

She winked ambiguously again, and Iris understood what she meant and walked out happily with the maid.

A woman with her head covered had been waiting outside the door. As soon as the lady came out, she couldn't wait to push the door open and walk in.

"Is wearing a mask popular these days?" Hopper observed the woman behind the counter with interest. Seeing that there was no one else in the shop, the woman took off her headscarf, revealing the ugly face that Hopper had long been familiar with.

"I don't have that medicine, Judith," the demon said helplessly.

Chapter 102 An urgent matter

Hopper looked at the anxious Judith carefully. Her face was still covered with warts, but it was much better than when Hopper first met her. At least with the help of the ointment Hopper provided, her acne was well under control.

"Judith, you didn't do what I asked you to do," Hopper sighed. "You invested a lot of money, and I spent a lot of energy, and it was hard to control your acne. Don't ruin my reputation."

Hearing this, Judith raised her hand and touched her face in fear. Then she sighed helplessly and said, "What can I do? There have never been so many people eager to listen to my songs. The Hanged Elf Tavern is open until the early morning every day. The miser said he hasn't seen such a lively scene in years. They are all here for me. My talent has finally been showcased. How can I rest every day at sunset and not drink a drop of alcohol?"

As she spoke, her eyes, hidden beneath the tumor, shone surprisingly brightly. But the moment her gaze focused on Hopper's face, the light suddenly vanished, replaced by a different look. The poet glanced around the herbalist's humble room, her voice unconsciously tinged with an irrepressible sense of superiority: "I'm busy writing new poems now. Every morning when I wake up, inspiration knocks hard at my window, urging me to write more masterpieces. How can I, like you, sleep until you wake up naturally to maintain your beautiful face?"

Hopper couldn't help but laugh. For the past two weeks, Judith had captivated half the city with her unique appearance and distinctive performance style. A steady stream of sailors and adventurers flocked to the Hanged Elf to see her perform. It was clear she was beginning to savor the sweetness of the spotlight, completely basking in this sudden glory.

"Now, my talent has been proven, and the money I earn is enough for me to do things I never dared to dream of before." The poet said firmly, staring at the demon's face, her expression a mixture of desire and pain. "But my innate flaws have prevented me from making further progress. I need your help to solve this problem."

As she spoke, she pulled a palm-sized box from her bag and placed it on the counter. When she opened it, it was filled with gold coins, which shone charmingly in the afternoon sun. She bit her lower lip subconsciously, then decisively pushed the entire box toward Hopper, then turned her head away, as if she was afraid she would regret it if she took another look.

"This is all my savings." The poet's voice was filled with determination. "If you can help me behave properly at next week's banquet, it's all yours. Help me find a solution."

Hopper reached out and grabbed a handful of heavy gold coins, then let them tinkle back into the box. Emerald Harbor was abuzz with talk lately: Chancellor Westerling was hosting a grand banquet and dance at his magnificent mansion next week, inviting not only the city's nobles but also knights who had traveled from far and wide for the tournament. Servants circulated in and out of Westerling's mansion, bringing with them all sorts of gossip. For example, one maid swore that Westerling had invited ten swan maidens to perform a striptease, only fueling curiosity.

"No, I can't help you, Judith." Hopper pushed the box of gold coins back. "You've been invited to perform, which is a great thing. I understand your desire to stand out, but don't you think that what they really want to see is the unique you?"

Judith's face instantly turned ugly, and the tumor on her face turned red and trembled with anger, which made her look even uglier. Obviously, Hopper's words were like a sharp knife, deeply hurting her.

The poet lowered his voice and shouted, "You don't need to remind me! You know what? All the nobles in the city will be there that day. Do you think they will be willing to watch an ugly bald woman sing "The Milkmaid"?! I will conquer them with my talent!"

Hopper shrugged, thinking, "You're dead wrong. Those nobles would be happier if you were an ugly, bald woman with burns and a broken leg, covered in tar and feathers, and sang even more obscene songs in front of them."

Judith suddenly realized her own incompetence. After all, she had come seeking help. She suppressed her anger, placed her hand on the box of gold coins, and mustered the courage to look Hopper in the cold eyes. Judith knew this herbalist was no ordinary person. In just two weeks, she had expanded her business to the Twinkling Star Region. There were only a few merchants in Emerald Harbor with such skill. Perhaps her herbalist skills were her last chance to change her fate. It was unclear when she would have the chance to meet Lord Westerling again.

Finally, she made up her mind and decided to reveal her deepest secret, just in exchange for a chance to change her life. The poet looked around again, and after confirming that no one was around, he said, "I know your rules. You only sell your most valuable potion to those who are most valuable."

A subtle surprise flashed across Hopper's face, as if he hadn't expected Judith to know so much. This small advantage encouraged Judith, and she immediately said, "In exchange for your service, I'm willing to tell you a secret that could shake Emerald Harbor."

However, the herbalist seemed unmoved. She pursed her plump lips and said calmly, "I suggest you find a wizard. They can perform a transfiguration spell for you."

Judith could no longer suppress her inner anger and grievance. The herbalist's contempt and evasion, like the eyes that once mocked her, deeply stung her heart. How dare this lowly person who made a living by selling smiles to men and obscene drugs to women treat her like this! The poet suddenly reached out and grabbed the herbalist's collar, shouting hysterically, "I can't go to the wizard, you big-breasted, brainless fool! How could the Westerling family want a daughter who needs to rely on Transfiguration to maintain her dignity!"

As soon as she said that, Judith regretted it. But it was too late to undo what had been done, so she could only bite the bullet and explain, "I am the eldest child of the Westerling family. I want my father to see me, accept me, and take back everything that originally belonged to me."

After a long silence, Hopper pried open her hand that was tightly clutching his collar and said coldly, "The eldest son of the Westerling family will not come of age for another two weeks. Judith Green Harbor, you drank too much during your performance last night. I'll go get you a dose of sobering medicine."

Judith grabbed the herbalist who was about to leave, her eyes filled with desperate madness. Her voice was distorted with nervousness: "Listen to me, Hopper. I really am the biological daughter of the Westerling family, and my mother is the current Lady Westerling. The reason they abandoned me is that they disliked my appearance and tarnished the noble bloodline of the Westerling family. Look at this."

As she spoke, she thrust a piece of worn cloth into Hopper's hands. The cloth was soft, though dulled by the ravages of water and time. But it still showed the original quality of the material. Embroidered on one corner was a humble pattern: a pair of crossed swords beneath an anchor.

"This is..."

"This is the Westerling family crest. My adoptive mother gave it to me. She said it was my swaddling clothes. Doesn't that explain everything?" Judith explained eagerly. "My parents probably thought I was dead. But it doesn't matter. As long as I can impress everyone at the banquet, I can be introduced to them openly. Then I can explain my life story to them in person."

"They abandoned me because of my appearance, so I can't perform with my ugly face. You must help me!"

Chapter 103 A Secret

Hopper stood there quietly, her brow furrowed, lost in deep thought. Her gaze flickered between Judith and the box of gold coins. Finally, she closed the box, moved it aside, and shook her head at Judith. Her tone was filled with sincerity and concern. "I don't recommend this, Judith. It's too risky."

Judith's eyes lit up instantly when she heard this. She understood the herbalist's implication and, in her excitement, half leaned over the counter, eagerly saying, "I knew you had a way. I knew it! I'm not afraid of risks! I'm willing to try anything as long as it means success!"

Hopper sighed softly. She handed the gold back to Judith and waved, "Come on, let's discuss this in the back. We'll talk about the reward later."

Judith practically jumped up. She knew it! This damned herbalist was definitely trying to raise the price, but it didn't matter. She could easily delay it for a while.

"Hopper is just a short-sighted businessman. Her brain is only enough to calculate those stupid civilians. When I become the daughter of the Westerling family, I will have the final say on whether to reward you or not, and how much to reward you." Thinking of this, she completely put aside the slight worry about the reward.

Judith followed Hopper through the small, cramped inner room, through the wooden door that was almost integrated into the wall, down the creaking stairs, and finally into complete darkness. She could see nothing but the pungent smell of lime and dried herbs in the air.

With a crackling sound, a small flame ignited not far from Judith, illuminating Hopper's face, which Judith envied so much. Judith felt an irrepressible jealousy. She stared at Hopper, but in her mind she had a malicious fantasy: "I wonder if I put that face into the fire now, will it still remain beautiful?"

However, Judith also understood that this was just a momentary evil thought. The herbalist's skills were more valuable than her face, and there was no need for her to offend her.

After taking in her surroundings, Judith discovered that the basement was much more spacious than the shop on the second floor. This was clearly the herbalist's workshop. Besides several wooden barrels filled with herbs, there was only a table and two chairs. Perhaps because it hadn't seen the sun for years, even with the fireplace lit, Judith felt a chill running down her back, an inexplicable chill welling up from the depths of her heart.

After Hopper lit the fireplace, he sat behind the table and said with a smile on his face, "Sit down, dear Judith Green Harbor. Let's talk about this."

Judith was acutely aware of the herbalist's change, though she couldn't quite pinpoint its precise nature. It seemed more...evil? Judith shook her head, dismissing her wild thoughts. She plopped down in her chair, angrily saying, "Don't call me that. Just call me Judith."

The herbalist pulled a sheet of parchment from under the table. She pulled out a piece and carefully flipped through it. Then she picked up her quill and scribbled some corrections on it. Finally, she pushed a piece of parchment covered with words and various characters to Judith and said solemnly, "For the sake of our safety, I suggest we sign a formal agreement."

The future daughter of House Westerling snatched up the parchment. Perhaps out of guilt for abandoning their firstborn child, her parents had left her a small sum of money when they abandoned her. It wasn't much, but it was enough for her to learn to read and write poetry from the village bard. Apparently, however, the bard's instruction didn't include how to decipher a carefully worded contract.

But Judith had her own way. She skimmed the agreement briefly, and the general meaning was clear enough. As a bard, she'd seen a lot of things, and she'd heard stories of unscrupulous businessmen playing tricks on contracts more than once. Recalling how the heroine in the story dealt with the unscrupulous businessman, she pointed to a clause she understood and asked, "What does 'If either party breaches the confidentiality principle and discloses any information to a third party, the innocent party may require the breaching party to do anything'? That's too vague. You can't risk your life if you accidentally disclose information, right?"

Hopper took the agreement, then picked up the pen and looked directly at Judith. "As you wish, ma'am. I'll change the last sentence to 'The innocent party may take the most valuable treasure of the party that violated the confidentiality principle.' What do you think?"

Judith suddenly realized what was happening, secretly sulking herself. This herbalist was truly a greedy profiteer. She quickly calculated, "No wonder she doesn't want my money. I naturally don't have any valuables right now. But if I regain my status as a Westerling, and then break the contract, she'll have plenty to covet. But she can only take one thing, and she definitely can't take my identity. I just have to be careful and don't let anyone know."

After thinking about it, she nodded and said, "Okay, I agree to this modification."

After Hopper finished revising this clause, she watched Judith sign the confidentiality agreement. Then, she took out another piece of parchment and handed it to Judith, which was also covered with dense words. The herbalist explained, "The previous one is a confidentiality agreement to ensure our safety. This one is a formal agreement to avoid any future disputes."

Judith took the parchment with annoyance, wondering where this unscrupulous businessman had come up with so many procedures. Fortunately, the content on the paper was simple to understand, and the clauses were not numerous. It stipulated the services the herbalist should provide, the desired results, and possible problems and how to handle them. Judith had no objection to the agreement, but she knew she couldn't be too submissive, otherwise she would be manipulated by the businessman.

So, she deliberately picked out a clause and asked sharply, "Why does it say 'This service is non-refundable and cannot be exchanged. Once sold, it is final. If you need to restore it to its original state after the service is completed, you will need to sign a separate agreement.' Why would I want to return to my current state?"

"Dear, this is a standard clause," Hopper said patiently. "I've always encountered some greedy clients in the past. If I didn't include this clause, I would be annoyed to death by them. If you feel embarrassed, you can still regret it now. The confidentiality clause is still in effect, and I will never disclose your privacy."

After saying that, she pretended to take the contract back from Judith's hand.

"I'll sign!" Judith blurted out. She couldn't lose this last straw.

She picked up the pen and was about to sign, but she found that there was no inkwell on the table. She asked in confusion, "Where is the ink?"

"Just write it." The smile on Hopper's face was mysterious and seductive. Her voice echoed in the room, giving Judith the illusion that she was not in the herbalist's basement, but in a cold deep well.

Judith pushed this strange thought aside and focused on the agreement at hand. Just as Hopper had said, the ink in the quill showed no signs of drying up. She didn't know if it was the orange glow of the fireplace, but Judith felt the ink was a bit reddish. Furthermore, the pen was extremely awkward to use, as if an invisible force was preventing her from signing. It took a lot of effort for her to finally sign her name crookedly.

"When I return to my real family, I will never use this broken pen again." She swore secretly in her heart.

Chapter 104 A Happy Event

Hopper solemnly put away the agreement, a satisfied smile on his face. For some reason, Judith felt a chill in her heart when she looked at Hopper's smiling face.

However, this strange feeling only lasted for a moment. As Hopper stood up, the strange feeling in Judith's heart quietly dissipated.

The herbalist opened the bucket in the corner and began to select the necessary medicines from it. He did not forget to explain to Judith, "Dear Judith, you must know that I am not lying to you. I really can't cure you with herbs."

Judith stood up from her seat and said anxiously, "But you just..."

Hopper turned around and dumped the full bag of herbs from her apron onto the workbench. She sorted the herbs with her hands and interrupted Judith's impatient speech: "Please be patient, dear. Things can't be rushed. Just because herbs can't treat your tumor doesn't mean other things can't. Magic, the almighty magic, can help you."

Judith's skepticism became more apparent, and she said unhappily, "Of course I know magic can help me. I just said I can't rely on Transfiguration to return to my original form."

Hopper didn't answer her directly. Instead, he put on a pair of leather gloves, took a stone from the pot, and held it out to Judith. The yellow-green stone was pitted and dented, like a potato about to sprout, and it exuded a disgusting stench of decay. Judith pinched her nose and looked at Hopper with a questioning look.

"This is a crop stone from a diggerworm," the herbalist said, throwing the stone into the mortar and grinding it. The sour smell became stronger. "I will brew a potion for you. Do you know what a potion is?"

Generally speaking, ordinary herbalists, no matter what precious medicines they use, can only treat common, non-magical ailments. However, spellcasters specializing in alchemy can directly infuse magic power into clear water, producing a life-giving effect.

Potions, on the other hand, fall somewhere in between. Herbalists who lack the talent to become spellcasters but are able to sense the pulses of magic can use various monster parts, even poisonous herbs, through complex techniques and subtle manipulation of magic to create potions far more effective than ordinary medicines. These potions are called magic potions.

Hopper opted for a different approach—directly requesting the powers of certain great devils who patronized witches to empower her potions. Some evil potion masters also do this; generally, offering a blood sacrifice and expressing devout faith is enough to satisfy the great devils. Of course, as a devil, Hopper didn't need to offer faith; she simply needed to remember to give her soul to the great devil. Furthermore, she didn't want to perform the blood sacrifice in front of Judith, lest she discover the clues too early.

This news shocked Judith, but it also brought a sigh of relief. As a poet known for knowing everything, she was certainly aware of the potion's miraculous effects. Judith couldn't help but sigh that her bet had been right. Unable to conceal her excitement, she said happily, "Sure enough! I guessed right. You're not just an ordinary herbalist. Are you a witch? Or a wizard?"

The herbalist simply stood up and hung the cauldron on the fire. Then he glanced at her and said, "Just a reminder, Article 5 of the confidentiality agreement prohibits inquiring into the other party's privacy by any means. Let's talk about this potion."

Hopper cut a wrinkled vine into small pieces as he spoke. Each cut made the vine let out a faint scream. The herbalist remained calm, seemingly oblivious to the screams. Her voice was remarkably calm and gentle amidst the shrieks. "These are young tentacle vines. They'll reduce the pain you experience when using potions."

The herbalist poured all of this into the crucible, and the clear water instantly turned a murky green, sizzling and emitting a foul odor. Judith, watching this, turned pale and asked tremblingly, "Should I drink this later?"

"Drink it? No, no, no, it's all my fault for forgetting to explain it to you." Hopper slapped his forehead and pretended to suddenly understand and said, "Sarcoma is a part of your body. It's not a disease at all. No one can cure a disease that doesn't exist."

"So, the potion I brewed for you is divided into two parts. The first part is used to apply to your tumors to corrode them completely; while the second part will repair your skin and restore your face to its normal appearance."

With that, she sprinkled a few more pinches of powder into the cauldron. The potion began to boil, turning a luminous green that looked dangerous. The herbalist hummed a discordant incantation, and only a single, repetitive name could be discerned: "Flas." As she stirred the potion, Judith felt as if even the steam rising from the cauldron had formed an eerie human face.

Hopper grabbed a piece of wood and dipped it in the potion. As soon as the wood touched the potion, it sizzled, but in the blink of an eye, it turned into green ash. She nodded with satisfaction: "Just let it boil for another hour."

Seeing Judith's face growing paler, Hopper persuaded her, "Now, I need you to drop some blood in. If you want to regret it now, it's not too late. My dear, there's nothing wrong with just being a popular poet."

The poet bit her lower lip, the green potion reflected in her pupils. Without hesitation, she reached out her hand, shook her head, and said, "Give me a knife."

Judith left the shop with her hands bandaged. Hopper walked her to the door and reminded her again, "Remember, tomorrow is a full moon. You must apply the potion all over your face under the moonlight. Even though I added the tentacle vine, the potion will still cause severe pain when it corrodes the tumor. But you must persevere and finish applying it before midnight. Come to me in three days to get the repair potion. It will take about the same amount of time to completely repair your face, enough time for you to make it to the party. But before then, you must never let anyone see your face, including yourself."

By this time, the sun was setting. Perhaps it was the cool breeze of dusk, or perhaps it was the excessive blood loss, but Judith felt cold and weak. She nodded reluctantly, saying she had remembered, but she didn't even have the strength to speak. Hopper nodded and watched as the coachman helped her into the carriage and then retreated back into the house.

Just as Judith was about to tell the coachman to leave, the sound of horse hooves caught her attention. A pure black pony with a shiny coat, carrying a rider, passed the carriage happily. She looked closely and saw that the rider was Aaron Oriath, the sheriff who had driven the corpse that day.