A/N: Hello, hello! And welcome back to the annual update for Her Deadly Thorns! ... Probably shouldn't be proud of that, but I think updating yearly has become my trademark at this point. XD Either way, it's been a while, huh? Quite a bit has happened with this story over the last year since I started transferring stories to AO3, namely the rewriting. Yup, for those of you who have been following this story since the beginning, I spent the months of October to February going back through Her Deadly Thorn's chapters 1 to 20 and giving them a bit of rewrite. This was mainly to get it up-to-date with my current writing style, but it was also the opportunity to go back and properly restructure the plot and either add foreshadowing, remove unnecessary dialogue and information, and give it a bit of a tidy up where the word count was concerned. So, I highly recommend going back and re-reading chapters 1 to 20 if you haven't already, because there are parts of the plot that have changed and future updates won't make any sense to you unless you're aware of what those changes are. Don't worry though. The word counts on some of them have been cut down immensely, as I am trying to stick to a word limit of 5,000 to 7,000 where possible to avoid overwhelming people, so you should be fine. XD

But back to this chapter. I realise the site is currently experiencing quite a few glitches right now, but I decided to upload this chapter here to try to give all readers access to the new stuff. Of course, if you guys can't access the new chapter here, this story is also uploaded on AO3 as well, so do check it out over there. But I'd like to take this opportunity to thank everyone who has been favouriting, following, reviewing (special thanks to those, by the way. Really cheered me up after last year's little 'incident') and reading (even though I can't see the stats right now either!) this fic. Even after seven years of trying to get this story finished, it's nice to see there are still people browsing The Witch's House fandom and being drawn to this story. Going forward, I am going to try to update this story a little more frequently, maybe every six months to start off with, but please don't hold me to that. I currently have three fanfics series I am invested in and am trying to complete as well, so... yeah. In fact, depending on how this arc with Anthony plays out, I think Her Deadly Thorns might be winding up with a sequel fic at some point too. No promises though. XD Either way, I hope you enjoy this new update, despite it mostly being an info dump and solely Peter and Emilia interaction.

Chapter 23: Sheep in Wolf's Clothing

Getting Anthony to the master bedroom of the Witch's House turned out to be the easy part of my trek.

After ordering the cat to send a bowl of water, a clean cloth and other supplies to the master bedroom to prepare for treating the injury, I was left to carry the unconscious and injured Anthony inside the house, with Viola sticking close behind me with an extra supply of bandages she'd apparently kept in the pockets of her pinafore. Anthony held a bit more heft to him than Peter. From his healthy complexion, neat appearance and perfectly snug clothes alone, I could tell he came from a family who looked after him well. Though that didn't mean he was difficult to carry, and had I been forced to, I could have easily carried him all the way up to the top floor going the long way through the house. However, to avoid the other house's residents and traps (and also to save time), I purposely avoided using the dining room and instead manipulated the house's magic the lone door in the foyer opposite the house's entrance, creating a staircase to the top floor and temporarily replacing the empty and windowless room usually there.

The hard part came as Viola and I reached the corridors of the top floor. Upon rounding the corner of the wall at the end of the hallway, we found Peter standing outside of the opened master bedroom door with a hand clutching his elbow and his eyes averted to the ground. He was quick to look up in my direction when we came to an abrupt halt, his hazel gaze instantly drawn to the unconscious brunette boy held in my arms. Several seconds of intense staring later and Peter's mouth fell open without making a sound.

"W-What happened…?" he asked in a cracked and breathless voice, slightly stuttering as he tried to force the words he wanted to say from his tongue.

My brow raised with a surprised blink at the question, naturally expecting Peter to question Anthony's identity first and not his situation. Viola soon cleared up my confusion upon stepping closer to my left side.

"He might have been watching us from the window," she whispered, leading me to recall the human-like shadow I'd thought I'd seen loitering in front of the window to the master bedroom from outside.

'Ah. That wasn't my imagination, then.'

"His brother shot him in the leg," I answered Peter bluntly after a moment of silence. I ignored his eyes widening and the loud gasp that escaped him as I resumed my walk into the bedroom, with Viola following closely at my side. "He's fine, but he needs to be treated right away to avoid an infection."

There was no point in lying. If Peter didn't find out now, he was going to find out later. Not to mention the whole point of last night's conversation was to make sure Viola and Peter were aware of what I was going to be getting myself into from here on out. Lying after that was definitely going to make me look like a hypocrite.

"W-Wait!" I heard Peter stammer once he'd found his voice, followed by his footsteps jogging after me as I reached the bed and laid Anthony down on his back. "A-Aiden did this?!"

"It was an accident," I looked back to see Peter slow to a stop and whip his head between me and the unconscious boy with repeated blinks. "But Aiden leaving Anthony behind to bleed to death deep in the woods wasn't," I added through gritted teeth.

That didn't stop Peter from hearing. "He what—" he started to shriek as he whirled on his heels to face me, only to cut himself off as he teetered a little to the right, the sudden momentum almost making him fall over. "Ah—!"

Luckily, my reflexes kicked in quickly enough to catch him by his closest shoulder with a hand, allowing him to regain his balance and straighten up.

"Would you please calm down?" I stated sternly and let him go. "The last thing I need is another child getting hurt."

"But why would he do that?!" Peter questioned in a wobbly tone, causing me to frown as his wide hazel eyes settled on Anthony with a quivering lip. "They're always mean to me, but Anthony loves Aiden so much! So, why…?"

Tears welled to Peter's eyes when he trailed off, a sight that deepened my frown as I exchanged a brief glance with Viola, who shook her head with an open-armed shrug in response. Peter's words alone were already a red flag considering my observations of the twins' interactions earlier, yet to see this child showing sympathy towards one of his bullies? I couldn't believe my eyes or ears.

'Good grief, Peter. You and Viola really are two peas-in-a-pod, huh?' I gave Anthony's unconscious form a quick sideways glance. 'But his reaction aligns with what Viola's told me earlier. It looks like Aiden's treatment towards his brother isn't common knowledge to the other village folk. Interesting…'

"Look," I finally said through a small huff. "I can't explain right now. I need to treat his wound before it becomes infected." I tilted my head in the direction of the open doorway. "So, would you mind waiting outside of the room until I'm done?"

Peter opened his mouth ready to object, even leaning forward on his toes and loosely clenching his hands close to his chest. However, the loud squeaking of the kitchen trolley wheels (a sound I'd since come to recognise by now) making their approach silenced him, drawing the young boy's attention to the doorway with a forced blink just as it rounded the corner of the wall. The trolley was transporting two full bowls of water (I assumed the second one was so I could wash my hands before and after the procedure for hygiene reasons), a small pile of folded white cloths, a few rolls of bandages and other assortments of items I'd requested from the cat.

Obviously, all Peter could see was a trolley moving by itself, whereas Viola and I could see the cook pushing it into the bedroom from behind by its handle. As such, I ignored the younger boy's shoulders stiffening and his brows raising when the trolley halted inside the doorway; he wasn't used to seeing the usual goings on of the ghostly residents of the house like I was, after all.

"Here's everything you asked for," the cook announced.

I rounded the bed and walked over to him without any visible reaction. I didn't need to question how the cook managed to get this trolley upstairs. The cat could control the house and its magic too, a fact I was well aware of already. I had an idea as to how he'd accomplished that.

"Thank you," I replied to the cook aloud with a curt nod, pretending not to hear Peter's noise of confusion behind me.

Again, I realised he wasn't used to me speaking with the residents of the house so freely, especially outside of Viola. I'd originally done this on purpose to avoid making him uncomfortable, even though he had seen and heard me conversing with Viola before and probably just assumed I was speaking with 'my ghost friend'. But now that I was beginning to be honest with him and Viola, and perhaps as a result of my earlier epiphany, I no longer saw the point in such things.

I was on the path of accepting myself now, which meant I didn't need to fear judgement from others anymore. Being myself around Viola and Peter was a good place to start.

I waited until the cook gave a brief bow out of acknowledgement and made to leave the room before I went behind the trolley and took the handle, preparing to push it to the foot of the bed. However, I paused at hearing Peter jog his way over to me and then felt him take a loose and weak grip on my closest elbow.

"Miss Emilia," Peter whimpered, looking up at me with pleading and watery hazel eyes. His confusion and fear surrounding this situation was clear as day. "I don't understand. Why did Aiden…?"

I'd never considered myself to be the best when it came to comforting others. The only experience I had doing so was with my mother, and that was few and far between given she was usually the one comforting me. Yet just like I'd done the day prior, I knew all I could do was try. After all, I was the only trustworthy family Peter had now. Whether I felt I could do it or not, I needed to step up.

So, when Peter's question trailed off and he lowered his gaze with quivering lips, I sucked in a short breath through my nose and lifted a hand to his closest shoulder, grabbing his attention again and drawing his eyes back to mine.

"I know this is a lot for you to take in, Peter," I began quietly. "Especially because of everything you've had to endure yesterday. But Anthony's injury needs to be tended to first." I gave his shoulder a firm but gentle squeeze. "I promise I'll explain everything afterwards, but until then, could you please trust me? You can do that, right?"

After the conversation from last night and everything he'd suffered within the past day, I knew what I was asking of Peter was a lot. For a young boy of his age, he was carrying a huge burden and trauma that no child should have had to—from witnessing the murder of his loved ones and the loss of his home, to the discovery that his mother was a member of a cult who'd forced his birth and killed his father, and that the 'witch' he'd come to befriend was, in fact, related to her and ultimately the reason why he was born. And even after all that, he was now witnessing that same witch, who had previously saved him from a group of bullies, prioritising the wellbeing of one of said bullies over him.

I couldn't even begin to imagine what was going through his head as the two of us silently stared each other down, the prolonged waiting for him to say something causing sweat to gather on my forehead and the palm still on his shoulder. But then my eyes grew wide when Peter removed his grip on me and placed his other hand atop of my own, a small and wobbly smile stretching onto his face.

"Okay, Miss Emilia," he answered in a low voice, using his free sleeve to dab at his eyes. "But you don't have to ask, you know!" The little blonde boy pulled his arm away from his face with a teeth-baring grin and the brief closing of his eyes. "Of course I trust you!"

My hand retracted abruptly from his person at the last words to leave his mouth, my jaw silently dropping open like a door with broken hinges. What did he just say? Had I heard him correctly?

Peter, on the other hand, remained unfazed by my shocked reaction. With his grin intact and his eyes opening again, the young boy swirled on his heels and jogged out of the bedroom, grabbing hold of the doorknob on his way. I wordlessly watched him pull the door shut, unable to move or say anything within that moment. Only once the gentle click of the door connecting with the doorframe reached my ears was I finally brought back to my senses with a forced blink.

Briefly shaking my head from side-to-side, I whipped towards the door and cupped a hand close to my mouth. "Don't forget the house is full of traps that could seriously hurt you or worse!" I shouted after him. "Stay in that corridor until I say it's okay to come back in!"

I received Peter's muffled yet affirmatively jovial response from the other side of the door. "Yes, ma'am!"

Viola's giggles drew my attention to the bed, where she remained stood on the other side and staring at me with a cheeky smile. It was infectious enough to tug the corners of my own lips into an amused smile of my own, because I knew why she was giggling without her having to say so. That smile stayed even as I moved the trolley towards the foot of the bed to prepare for the medical procedure of the unconscious brunette laying atop it, a comforting warmth soon blossoming within the confines of my chest and spreading throughout my being.

Despite the currently grim situation at hand, I was happy. I was genuinely happy for the first time since coming here. Part of it, I presumed, was likely related to the small epiphany I'd had earlier this morning. Though I was certain a good chunk of that happiness was all down to the two little blondes standing outside of the bedroom and in the bedroom with me. After all, my past had now been laid bare for them to see. They now knew the true me, and yet they weren't treating me any differently. They were interacting with me like they usually would, extinguishing whatever was left of the concerns and worries I'd experienced during that sleepless night.

There was still a lot left unsaid, especially regarding what they were going to do once I'd made up my mind about my own goals from here on out. Yet despite everything, they still trusted me. Why shouldn't I smile about that?

I lost track of the amount of time I spent tending to Anthony's injury. Considering the procedure to remove the bullet from the wound was delicate and required my full attention to avoid making life-altering mistakes, it was inevitable. My nerves were so bad, I struggled to keep my shaking hands still at times and was forced to take small breaks in between at Viola's suggestion. I wasn't a doctor or an expert in the medical field in general. I only had the instructions and advice given to me by a demon hiding in a dead crow's body, along with the ghostly assistance of a teenage girl with one eye, while also attempting to perform a medical procedure on very little sleep. So, of course I was going to be nervous about what I was doing!

The procedure felt long and gruelling (likely exaggerated by the mental exhaustion hanging over my head), but by the time I'd successfully removed the bullet, cleaned the wound with the supplies provided by the crow demon and then dressed the wound again with fresh bandages, the natural light from outside had brightened up the bedroom, indicating morning was officially upon us. Well, technically mid-morning; Viola left the bedroom and confirmed the time for me using one of the nearby grandfather clocks once I allowed Peter back inside. Poor boy had actually fallen asleep sitting on the floor outside while waiting for me to finish up, though he sheepishly admitted it was because he hadn't gotten a lot of sleep either; understandable, given his circumstances.

With Anthony's wound tended to and his condition seeming to have stabilised, Viola offered to return the trolley and the supplies it was carrying to the kitchen. Anthony was still unconscious despite everything that had gone on and given the length of time he'd been out for, I knew that leaving him alone in case he woke up was not a good idea. He was going to be very confused and scared and I couldn't risk him trying to flee the house in case he got caught in a trap or hurt himself further. I also needed to get Peter up to speed on what happened between Anthony and Aiden, which Viola argued was probably better to do while Anthony wasn't conscious to hear it; again, it would cause a lot of confusion and fear on his part. So, once I'd temporarily rearranged the house's floors from the top floor staircase to allow Viola instant access to the kitchen, I let the selfless little blonde go on her way with the trolley, leaving myself alone with Peter and an unconscious Anthony in the master bedroom.

Peter sat himself on the chair beside the bed with his hands gripping either side of the seat, while I took to sitting on the edge of the bed by Anthony's feet. For the first few minutes, neither of us dared to speak, mainly as I was spending that time thinking through how exactly to broach the topic of what I'd seen between Anthony and Aiden earlier. Luckily, I didn't need to in the end; Peter did it for me when he leaned towards the bed and peeked at Anthony's bandaged shin behind me, his hazel eyes lighting up with a slight gape.

"Wow, Miss Emilia! You patched Anthony up real good!"

"You think so?"

"Uh-huh! You tied it up neatly too!" Peter returned his child-like wondered eyes to mine with an open-mouthed smile, his head tilting to the side a little. "Did someone teach you how to do that?"

Peter's query, though innocent, caused my mind to instantly flash back to a memory of when I was six years old and sitting on the edge of the village, bandaging up the right leg of a doll that looked like the village doctor. I recalled the ghost of its owner, another six-year-old girl who'd passed away from illness, was sat beside me and instructing me on what to do. She was unable to do it herself because she'd lost the feeling in her blackened and bleeding blistered fingers.

"Uh…" I hesitated, answering after a slight delay. "Yes."

"Who was it?"

My eyes flitted to the ceiling as I pondered on how much I should actually elaborate on the subject for Peter's sake. After several seconds of contemplation, however, I shook my head dismissively and casually shrugged my shoulders; he didn't need the gory details. "… An old ghost friend from my previous home."

Peter's smile fell with a wide blink. "An old ghost friend?"

"Yeah." I smirked and lifted a brow. "I didn't have any living friends there, remember? All the other children were scared of me."

"Ah…" Peter mumbled out of realisation, his brows knitting together as he gave me a look of concern. "Sorry. I keep forgetting the 'Lili' from your story is you."

"Don't be," I reassured with a flippant wave, forcing an amused smile. "Sometimes I forget she's me too."

My joking attempt earned me a strained chuckle from the little blonde boy opposite me, yet Peter was soon moving the conversation along when he let his eyes wander back to Anthony's bandaged leg.

"I can't believe Aiden hurt Anthony and then left 'im behind." He focused back to me with furrowed brows. "How did that happen?"

And there was the opening I had been waiting for. For the next several minutes, I spared no detail about what was seen and heard leading up to, during and after the incident occurred, expecting Peter to react with visible shock and disgust at Aiden's cruelty, just like earlier. But instead, once the words regarding the reason behind Aiden's actions left me entirely, I watched the young boy's lips and brows press into a thin line, his grasp loosening upon the chair.

"… Oh," he mumbled solemnly, sounding like what I said wasn't new news to him in the slightest. "So, that was the reason why."

I couldn't stop myself from raising a brow and forcing a blink at his reaction, my confusion palpable. "You're not surprised by that?" Peter slowly shook his head, a response that made me frown. "But you seemed to be earlier."

Peter didn't respond straightaway. The younger blonde briefly averted his eyes to the carpet and rubbed a palm against the back of his neck, his shoulders drooping as though he was a skinny ragdoll. He looked ashamed, an assumption that soon came to pass when he finally chose to speak up without my prompting.

"That was 'cause I didn't wanna believe it, Miss Emilia," he admitted sheepishly, still refusing to look me in the eyes for some reason. "But being honest…" Peter paused as he lightly tapped the sides of his shoes together, his lips pursing as though he was hesitating with what to say next. He did say it eventually, albeit in a tiny, squeaky voice. "…this is normal for Aiden."

I blinked a couple of times and then squinted, unsure if I'd heard him correctly. Considering what I'd witnessed Aiden, Anthony and their 'acquaintance' do to Peter the first day we met, I should not have been shocked. But then again, maybe that shock was down to hearing the confirmation coming from Peter of all children.

About ten seconds of silence passed before I cupped a hand behind one of my ears and leaned forward off the bed a little. "I'm sorry?"

Peter fidgeted in his seat and moved his hands to grip at the bottom of his shirt to stretch it over his thighs, looking very uncomfortable with repeating himself. That didn't stop him from doing it anyway surprisingly enough, after swallowing thickly and loudly and squeezing his eyes shut first.

"… I said this is normal for Aiden," he repeated louder this time.

"It's normal behaviour for Aiden to shoot his brother?" I clarified with forced emphasis.

Peter's eyes shot open with the sudden jerk of his head, his hazel eyes almost bulging from his sockets.

"No, no!" he hastily cried out and waved his hands about in front of him for a few seconds. "Not that! Aiden's never done anything like that before!" The blonde boy gave the unconscious Anthony a sideways glance before he returned his attention to me. "I-I mean it's normal for Aiden to hurt Anthony like he hurts other children!"

"Other children?" I repeated with a wide blink. My mind flitted back to the day Aiden and Anthony had brought Peter to the Witch's House, accompanied by that loud-mouthed raven-haired lad who'd acted as the leader of their silly little trio. "Are you saying you weren't the only victim of the twins and their…"—I scowled at remembering I didn't know the third boy's name—"…friend?" is the form of address I ended up hissing.

Had Peter not been sat right there and he'd been a little older, I probably would have called that unknown bully something worse.

"Hugo," Peter said the name instinctively, which was swiftly followed by an involuntary and visible shudder. "He was the boy shouting at you when they tied me up and brought me here."

"Figured as much," I muttered sarcastically and rolled my eyes.

"But you're right," Peter continued, bringing his hands to his lap and twiddling his thumbs. "Hugo's dad is a knight for Lord Evergreen, the grownup in charge of our village—"

'Evergreen?'

Peter interrupted himself when I felt my left eye and the corners of my lips twitch at the familiar name, my sleep-deprived brain instantly propelling me back to the warnings my mother had given me surrounding the members of the Demon Triad that my father had given her. Hadn't my mother mentioned a Lord 'Evergreen' was connected to the cult?

"Miss Emilia?"

Peter's concerned voice brought me back to reality with two forced blinks, the recollection of current events hitting me full force.

"Sorry," I apologised so I didn't worry Peter, giving my forehead to rough taps with my palm for good measure. "The name of the lord distracted me."

Peter's brows raised with a curious blink. "Do you know him?"

"What makes you think I know him?"

"'Cause I remember you said the cult people were rich and mean, and… Well…"

Peter forced an awkward chuckle and turned his eyes to the ceiling, trailing off and not saying anything more. But he didn't need to for me to get the full picture.

"Lord Evergreen is both of those things?" I finished, prompting Peter to lower his gaze to me with a forced smile. I sighed heavily and leaned back a bit on the bed with my fingers massaging my temples. "Of course he is…"

Looking back on my experiences in the village that day and also with 'Hugo' and the Taylor twins, the behaviour displayed by the cult members and the trio of children, whether witnessed by myself or reported to me by Peter and the cat, made so much sense with this new piece of information under my belt. After all, when the cult had tried to come after me in my previous village, their tactics were more discreet and reliant on Adam pulling the strings of the villagers. They never interfered directly until after I'd unintentionally wiped the entire population of the village out. This time, however, the behaviour displayed by the cult members had been rather lax in comparison—Charlotte's approach to targeting Ellen, for instance, or the way the cult members loitered along the perimeter of the forest outside of the village, even the way the knights had handled the situation surrounding the Chandlers. Heck, none of the resident villagers seemed bothered by their presence thinking about it (outside of Ellen, for obvious reasons), a massive indicator that whoever was in charge of the village had allowed them the freedom to roam.

'And who else would be foolish enough to do that unless they happened to be in cahoots with the instigators? Although…'

"Say, Peter?" I said out loud and grabbed the blonde boy's attention again. "About this 'Lord Evergreen'—I know it's a little off topic, but when you say he's 'mean'… how is he mean exactly?"

From the original story my mother told me about her village under the rule of the Druitts, Adam's notoriously high taxes left the homes and villagers themselves in terrible disrepair. But while I was exploring Peter's and Viola's village, I didn't recall seeing anything that suggested that anyone else outside of Peter and his family were poor. The homes were in good condition and those such as Ellen and Anthony looked well-fed and clothed. So, it didn't seem like Lord Evergreen was greedy when it came to money. Which begged my question.

"Well," Peter started, his hazel eyes flitting over to Anthony still unconscious on the bed behind me. "it isn't, really."

"How so?"

"'Cause it's why Hugo can do what he wants and never gets into trouble." I let Peter continue as he swallowed thickly and scratched at his shirt around his chest, keeping his gaze solely fixated on Anthony for the time being. "The knights in the village are treated as important, so Hugo is treated as important too. But Hugo is mean. He bullies other children he doesn't like. He always takes their toys or pushes them and hits them." Peter curled his arms round his middle and hunched his shoulders, his voice growing quieter. "Sometimes he takes his dad's things and uses them to tie them up or hurt them…"

'Like that rope and gag used on you, you mean?' I did the wise thing in keeping that thought to myself, choosing to take my slowly rising anger out on the quilt of the bed by digging my nails deep into the material as I could. Admittedly, because of the situation at the time, I never did question how on earth three children managed to get their hands on items like that to use on Peter. At least now I had an understanding of how that came to be. 'Oh, how I wish I'd ordered one of those crows to peck that little bastard hard on the head…'

"And he's never gotten into trouble for it?" I reiterated.

"Never," Peter confirmed lowly as he returned his gaze to me. "The grownups know, but they won't do anything about it."

"Why not?"

"'Cause Hugo's dad will make them disappear."

My brows shot up when I gaped at the realisation that slapped me across the face.

"Oh…" I eventually uttered, causing Peter's eyes to droop.

"The knights make grownups disappear if they think they're a witch." Peter fidgeted a little on the chair and turned his gaze downward when his mouth quivered. "That's why I was with him that day. He said he'd tell his dad that my grandma was a witch if I didn't give myself to the witch in the woods."

My heart sank. Peter hadn't told me the reason why he was being used as a sacrifice that day and I'd never felt the need to ask him. I'd naturally assumed it was just cruel bullies being cruel bullies, based on my own experiences, of course.

'Oh, Peter…'

Now I really wished I'd commanded those crows to do something more to that cocky little bastard.

"But what does Hugo's behaviour and the actions of Lord Evergreen's knights have to do with Aiden hurting Anthony?" I pressed after a short round of silence, deciding to get the topic back to the original discussion at seeing how uncomfortable Peter was (and to avoid unleashing the slowly growing flames of rage I could feel licking at my insides).

I was tempted to press for more information surrounding Lord Evergreen because of my suspicions, though I doubted there was anything else Peter would be able to tell me. This was a matter I was going to have to look into at a later date, I assumed, probably with the cat.

"Hugo doesn't like Anthony," Peter admitted lowly, causing my brows to raise and my head to turn to the mentioned brunette boy with a wide blink.

"He doesn't?"

"Nu-uh."

"And Aiden also doesn't like his brother, right?"

"He doesn't."

I turned back to Peter with a disbelieved blink. "What does Hugo think of Aiden then?"

"Hugo likes him."

"And yet Hugo hangs around with both of the twins anyway?"

"Uh-huh."

"And Aiden just lets Anthony come along with them despite not liking him either?"

"Yep."

I squinted and pursed my lips for several seconds, trying to wrap my head around the logic that was running through this bully's head, along with the brother's. But I couldn't, because no matter how many times I repeated Peter's answers to my questions in my head, or how many times I mentally replayed his explanations, or how many times I recalled Aiden's behaviour towards Anthony back in that clearing, it didn't make any sense.

This was why I could only utter a singular worded question from my lips after a prolonged period of absent sound. "Why?"

And in response, Peter casually shrugged his shoulders and shook his head with a soft sigh. "I don't know." He paused to give Anthony a sideways glance. "But my guess is that they like to make fun of how hard he tries to get them to like 'im."

I closed my eyes and released a frustrated huff through my nostrils, recalling Anthony's and Aiden's earlier conversation with the rabbit the latter attempted to shoot.

"Aw! Did that other one get away?!"

"Who cares?! You shot one on the first try! That's better than me!"

"I care, you dimwit! I wanted both of 'em!"

"Ah," I said after a moment of pondering without opening my eyes, stroking my fingers through my fringe a couple of times. "So, Anthony hangs around with Aiden and Hugo because he's looking for acceptance? Assumingly to stay on Hugo's good side?"

"I think so."

I stroked at my chin with a hand and opened my eyes again, the mental image of Aiden's horror-struck expression following the aftermath of the gunshot still permanently burned in my brain. "And would you say the same applied to Aiden?"

"Hm…" Peter hummed in thought and furrowed his brows, tilting his head a little to the side and subconsciously tapping at his cheek with his fingertip. "Maybe…? With Hugo. I think Aiden has always hated Anthony, though."

'So, both twins have a classic case of 'Sheep Syndrome', huh? That actually makes a lot of sense.'

I was curious about the last thing Peter said, already opening my mouth with a follow-up question on the tip of my tongue.

But then loud rumbling and gurgling from Peter's direction disrupted my plans.

I watched Peter clutch and look down at his stomach with a wide blink, his face gradually heating up with a faint pink around his cheeks out of embarrassment when he dared to look up at me again.

"Heh, heh! Sorry!" he apologised with a goofy grin, a forced chuckle and the slight raise of his shoulders, reaching a hand round to rub at the back of his head. "Forgot I hadn't eaten anything yet!"

I'd been so preoccupied with treating Anthony's injury and explaining everything to Peter that I'd forgotten to give him breakfast. And myself, of course, though Peter's wellbeing naturally took priority over mine.

"Looks like someone got a little too comfortable with me providing them free food," I teased with a weak smile to match, earning another and more genuine chuckle from Peter this time. "But I suppose that means your appetite is back. Feel like you want to try to eat something?"

Peter delayed responding for several seconds, but eventually he gave a nod and a sheepish smile to match. "Please," he added with a small squeak.

"All right." I stood up from the bed and smoothed out the creases in my skirt with my palms. "I'll head down to the kitchen and see if the cook can make something for you. I need to check on Vi—" I briefly winced the second I caught my slip of the tongue, hastily correcting myself. "—my ghost friend anyway."

'Curses! Almost slipped there!'

"Oh?" Peter uttered with raised brows and gave the bedroom a quick skim even though he couldn't see Viola anyway, appearing to not have picked up on my momentary blunder. "Your ghost friend hasn't come back from the kitchen yet?"

"No. So, I should make sure everything's okay with her too." I switched my gaze between Anthony and Peter for a few seconds each, settling on the latter with a guilty frown. "Will you be okay to wait here with Anthony until I come back? I shouldn't be too long, but I need someone to watch him because of how confused and scared he'll be when he wakes up."

I felt bad for asking considering that kid was one of Peter's bullies, and I could only imagine how uncomfortable it would be for Peter to remain in a room alone with him, especially if he woke up. Who knows what Anthony would do if the first person he saw upon waking up was Peter, after all. However, I couldn't leave Anthony unattended in case he did wake up and attempted to leave the bedroom, because he was very likely to wander into a trap that could injure him or worse. And there was no one else I could ask to watch him—the cat, the house (who had been surprisingly quiet since our last confrontation) and the other house's invisible residents were all untrustworthy, and Viola, as the only trustworthy ghost, currently wasn't here to help. On top of that, I couldn't send Peter to the kitchen in my stead, due to him being unfamiliar with the house still and not being able to communicate and see the ghosts. So, naturally, I had little say in the matter.

Thankfully, Peter seemed to pick up on my guilt, evidenced by the reassuring smile he gave as he raised his palms.

"It's okay, Miss Emilia! Anthony's actually nice to me when he's on his own!"

My brow raised sceptically at hearing this, despite knowing Peter had no reason to lie to me. "Really?"

"Mhm! I'll be okay!" His smile widened when he offered me a small salute. "I'll make sure he doesn't leave the room!"

Despite my surprise at this new revelation, I returned the smile and reached out to firmly pat Peter's closest shoulder. "Thank you, Peter. I appreciate that."

Though, admittedly, I was a little more assured that Peter would be okay with this additional information.

"You're welcome!"

"But if you need me at any time, just shout for me at the top of the staircase, okay?"

Peter nodded affirmatively. "Yes, ma'am."

"Good boy."

I ruffled Peter's hair with a hand before I departed from the bedroom, leaving the door open upon entering the corridor and making my way to the stairs. Yet my journey between the house's floors was anything but peaceful, my mind still abuzz with everything Peter and I had discussed literally seconds ago.

I was armed with information that I hadn't expected to encounter, and it filled the pit of my stomach with the same sense of dread I experienced earlier with the crow demon. The more I tried to deny that this Lord Evergreen was connected with The Demon Triad, the more I found myself reflecting on Peter's explanations surrounding the operation of the knights in their little village and how much it seemed to match the descriptions of my mother's former village home.

I was still unsure of what I wanted to do with myself from this point onwards, and Anthony's and Peter's wellbeing's were currently my main priorities. Still, I didn't think it could hurt to enquire with Viola about this 'Lord Evergreen' and 'Hugo'. Perhaps she could shed some light on the issue without me having to rely on the cat for once.