The towering Gothic castle stands on the edge of Aaron, a retro design that is no longer seen in the city, and the size of such interdependent buildings is too large to be afforded in the center of the city.

After all, this was only Veronica's temporary residence, and the prince didn't think there was any need to make it too conspicuous.

The main areas of the castle, including the maiden's bedroom, are equipped with electric lights, but in some areas the original way of lighting with candles and oil lamps is still preserved.

The old woman lowered her body:

"Master, this is a book that His Royal Highness has specially written to you to read. ”

Veronica frowned:

"'Life Withering,' 'Flori's Study of Modern Diseases' Studies, what's that, can't my father pick out some more artistic books?"

The old woman leaned down again, almost touching the ground.

The old woman's old countenance, which could not be seen by her master, was terrified, as if she feared that the slender and beautiful maiden would tear herself apart like a demon.

"Master, this, this is Lord Gawain's orders. The old woman explained cautiously.

Veronica sighed and took the book from her trembling hand:

"Really, I asked him to read more of Hevendelunge's writings, and I don't know if he listened to it, but then again, I haven't seen Erin for a long time, are you new here? I don't think I've seen you before, what's your name?"

The old woman said with some bitterness:

"Yes, master, I am new here, and as for the name, it doesn't matter, we are all your humble servants. ”

Veronica was not surprised by her answer, and returned to her desk to pick up a letter and handed it to her:

"This is a reply to my father, why is he so busy, I can understand that my father must be very busy as a prince, but how long have we not seen each other? 10 years, 15 years?"

Veronica was like a girl complaining about her father's late return, but the words she said inevitably seemed a little abnormal to ordinary people's ears, and in the ears of the old woman, they could only make her tremble slightly again.

She didn't even dare to tremble too violently, and if Veronica realized that the reason for her trembling was out of fear, not physical age, it wouldn't end well for her.

Veronica knew that it was useless to talk to these servants no amount of time, and her father and mother had told her that she was the future Grand Duchess, and that she needed to study hard to keep her noble, and that she could not communicate casually with the commoners.

In fact, it was a bit out of bounds to talk so much about Mr. Herwin before, but she found that since she became an adult, the people around her have been much less constrained by her, and she is no longer controlled by bans, and going to Aaron University is also the "privilege" she strives to ask for.

She returned to her desk and picked up a biography of Professor Herwen's adventures—at least she read them as adventure biographies.

Veronica sat nobly and lonely, flipping through interesting stories, and every time she saw them, she felt an inexplicable sense of intimacy, as if Professor Hervin were whispering them in her ear.

And when Veronica saw Mr. Herwin with her own eyes, she found that his image was quite different from that of the storyteller, and in her fantasy, Hervendelenge should be a handsome and unusually handsome blonde male.

It's all too normal for fantasy to be at odds with reality.

To her surprise, Professor Herwen's voice was exactly the same as the one that sounded in her head when she was reading.

"This is the seventh day of observing the Tukatsa tribe, the young people of the tribe are eager for civilized society, but the elders prevent anyone from leaving the tribe.

"If they want to go to the civilized world, they have to go through the seventh layer of tests, about half of them will give up before the third level test, a quarter will die in the fourth level test, and about half of the remaining people will stop halfway through the sixth level test, and the rest will die here, except for the ...... that brought them the dream of civilization"

Hevendelenger's voice sounded softly in her ears, gentle and kind, giving Veronica the feeling of being more like a father than Prince Gawain.

Veronica suddenly turned around:

"Why don't you leave. ”

The old woman whispered:

"Without your will, I dare not retreat. ”

Veronica waved her hand:

"You can go. ”

The old woman slowly exited the room as if she had been pardoned.

She clenched the letter tightly and walked as fast as she could, but the decaying body could not walk as fast as the young man's walk.

The old man whispered a eulogy and prayed softly for shelter and mercy to the unworshipped gods, as if that way she would be saved from some unspeakable calamity.

A tall and thin old man suddenly appeared in the middle of the road, and his black robe completely enveloped him:

He stopped the old woman:

"Erin. ”

The old woman hurriedly handed the letter to the old man:

"Steward Gairanti. ”

The old woman knew that the letter would not even leave the castle gates, and would be carefully transported by the butler to the secret room for storage.

Stay safe with all the other letters.

She had worked in the castle long enough that she herself could not tell the time correctly, and enough for her to know the secrets that many of the little girls who had come to her did not know.

The steward of Gaianti nodded, his shriveled face like that of a dead man who had just crawled out of the tomb.

"Go to service. ”

The old woman bowed her head reverently, until the butler disappeared silently like a ghost at the end of the corridor.

She bowed her head and walked in silence, with all the servants in the castle.

The servants gathered like a river, pouring out of the main fort through countless doors, and rejoining into the auditorium next to the castle.

Everyone lined up and walked slowly and silently, and no one took the initiative to communicate with their colleagues.

The members of the party were very interesting, from young girls who had just reached adulthood at the age of eighteen to old people who were almost unable to walk, and the number of people in each age group was about the same, and the age distribution was very even, as if the servants could choose their ages.

They poured into the auditorium like a tide, like a swarm of bees, like walking corpses, and even outnumbered the auditorium.

When the old woman entered the auditorium, there were not many people left, and she followed the others to the deep passage hidden under the trapdoor.

The incomparably spacious underground church appeared in front of everyone, and everyone bowed their heads and waited with reverent expressions.

A huge statue stood at the front of the dark hall, and beneath it was Father Gallanti, stripped of his butler's robes, who seemed to be the first to arrive.

When the last servant entered the church, the trapdoor closed quietly and the green candles flickered.

"Praise the Goddess ......"

The crowd began to pray together.