Chapter 3

“A fairy’s devotion is unshakable. A fairy’s competence ... less so.”

common saying among witches

April 16, 2025 -- Kael Family Manor (Irish countryside) -- 9:20 a.m.

The second floor of the Kael manor was bathed in the morning sunlight, giving Lady Isobel Fairmont’s chamber a look far less intimidating than usual.

Intimidating was perhaps too strong a word, at least for someone like Isobel, full of fantasies of every kind. Still, a room at the very top of a witch’s manor (there was no “highest tower,” unfortunately), furnished with nothing but a large comfortable bed whose headboard had been specially designed to secure pairs of cuffs, a wardrobe filled mostly with enticing outfits and BDSM tools, and centuries-old paintings of young women being “tortured” was enough to ... unsettle any ordinary resident.

Fortunately for her, Isobel was anything but ordinary.

At that moment, she felt more like laughing than trembling in dread. In fact, no -- she was already laughing, her laughter spilling into the room despite the so-called “gag” that the three fairies, Solution, Nove, and Enfy, had placed on her.

Before leaving the manor, Selene had charged them with a very specific task: to “make sure the damsel in distress was not too comfortable” during her absence.

The strip of gray adhesive tape that Nove had pressed over her mouth, straight out of a Hollywood movie, was of course entirely useless.

The same went for her bondage.

After more than four months in Selene’s hands, finding herself “tied up” with her hands in front of her using a jump rope (in a manor equipped with a full BDSM arsenal, no less), and a second jump rope looped around her torso to “bind” her to a chair, was not merely ridiculous.

It was downright comical.

Facing her stood Solution, Enfy, and Nove, dressed in their usual outfits -- the kind of ensembles meant to imitate French maids (imitating being the key word, since they always managed to forget one part of the outfit, or get some detail wrong).

Arms crossed, the three of them regarded Isobel with a doubtful expression.

“Something’s not right,” Enfy remarked, her brows furrowed.

“Yes,” Nove agreed. “The prisoner looks far too ... happy.”

“She’s always ‘happy,’” Solution replied, a little defensive -- which was only fair, since she had been the one mainly responsible for the so-called bondage. “She just usually pretends the opposite.”

Isobel gave a muffled little laugh behind the tape and managed to get out, clear enough to be understood:

“Mmmph ... you three really think this will stop me?”

The fairies stared at her, then slowly turned to look at one another.

“Solution, I don’t understand. When our mighty Mistress gags her prisoner, she can’t speak at all!” Enfy said, turning to her sister with a disapproving look.

“Well, excuse me for not being as skilled as our wonderful Mistress,” Solution snapped.

“That’s true!” Nove agreed eagerly. “She’s so majestic, so powerful ... Our poor sister could never compete.”

Solution turned her head back toward Isobel--only to see, with dismay, the auburn-haired young woman lift her bound hands to her face and peel the strip of tape from her mouth.

“She--she’s freeing herself!” Enfy yelped, shooting a desperate look at Solution as if urging her to act.

“I--We need more jump ropes!” Solution blurted out, clearly at a loss for a better idea.

“Yes!” Nove agreed eagerly. “Lots of jump ropes--we’ll truss her up like a roast!”

“Wait!” Isobel snapped, her tone sharp enough to halt the three fairies mid-scan of the room for nonexistent jump ropes. “That is not how one ‘cares for’ a damsel in distress.”

The sisters exchanged quick, uneasy glances before turning back to her with suspicion written all over their tiny faces.

“And what would you know about it?” Solution demanded, bristling, stung that their Mistress’s prisoner had managed to criticize both her gag and her grand plan in under a minute.

“Don’t listen to her!” Nove cried. “This is a prisoner’s trick--she’s trying to deceive us, so she can escape the manor of our magnificent Mistress!”

Isobel rolled her eyes. “What I want is not to be trussed up like a Sunday roast by three well-meaning amateurs who’ll end up hurting me more than binding me.”

The three fairies exchanged a look, suspicion and uncertainty flickering in their eyes.

“We cannot trust the prisoner,” Nove insisted, pointing an accusing finger at Isobel. “She is trying to trick us.”

Solution and Enfy nodded in agreement.