My Step-Daughters Are The Villainesses

"Now, Lord Rubenhart, I must admit," Meera began, her tone light and conversational as she walked beside him.

"I am quite curious about the identity of the Witch you have secured down in your precious dungeons."

From her perspective, knowing the bloody, vengeful history Ulrich’s father and he shared with witches, she was already shocked he had adopted three of them.

Though, in her own twisted way, she found his method of adopting the three young sisters he had orphaned to be rather cunningly hot.

Still, that peculiar burst of mercy did not explain why he would purposefully keep a grown witch alive in his cells for years.

"You know her already," Ulrich replied, his gaze fixed ahead. "She is one of the people you caught two years ago."

"Hm, I remember her briefly," Meera said, her brow furrowing slightly. "But I thought you intended to slaughter everyone involved except that one you let run off?" 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

She wasn’t wrong to be surprised. That had been Ulrich’s original intention.

He would have gladly executed the entire lot of them. But upon reflection, he realized it was far more tactical to keep the Witch alive.

The blooded sons were utterly useless to him, but a Witch could have served as a precious hostage if her Coven ever retaliated against him.

However, in the two long years since the failed capture, not a single witch had dared to strike back.

It was admittedly strange. Ulrich had purposefully left Lucida alive and sent her back, ensuring she would deliver a threat directly to the heart of her Coven.

It seemed his warning had worked perfectly. They had left his territory completely alone, not even sending scouts to exact revenge or discover if any of their missing kin had survived.

Well, Ulrich certainly wasn’t going to complain about the peace and quiet.

"She can be useful," Ulrich replied. "And it seems I have finally found a use for her."

"After leaving her to rot underground for two full years?" Meera tilted her head, a wicked, amused smirk playing on her lips. "How cruel of you, Ulrich."

"She should be grateful that I did not execute her the moment I learned she was a Witch," Ulrich retorted coldly.

"I highly doubt your hatred matters much anymore, considering you have adopted three witches into your own home, Ulrich," Meera pointed out, raising a delicate brow before flashing him a meaningful smile.

"I do wonder... what makes those three girls so different that you treat them like royalty?"

Ulrich did not bother to offer her a reply.

"Hm, at first glance, they certainly do not look like ordinary witches. They are also quite adorable, all three of them," she said thoughtfully, before suddenly widening her eyes in mock realization.

"Oh! Do you perhaps have one of those strange fetishes? Do you enjoy them calling you ’Father’ or ’Dad’?"

Ulrich stopped dead in his tracks. He turned slowly and gave her a glare so icy it could have instantly frozen boiling magma.

"Come on! Don’t look so upset!" Meera immediately burst into bright giggles, stepping close and shamelessly wrapping her arms around his arm.

"I think you have groomed them perfectly! In just a couple of years, they will blossom into such wonderful, dangerous women that even your cold exterior will completely melt."

She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "I mean, you are already spoiling them rotten, aren’t you?"

"Get off," Ulrich said, attempting to pry his arm from her grip.

"No," Meera giggled again, stubbornly hugging his arm even tighter against her chest as they continued.

Finding no other option, Ulrich simply proceeded to ignore the woman clinging to him and continued to walk.

The dungeons where he had imprisoned Shana were not the ancient dungeons used and located outside.

He had constructed new cells built specifically to keep her close enough to monitor, but completely isolated from the main estate.

They approached a small, unassuming stone structure situated far to the north of the grounds. An iron gate blocked the entrance, flanked by two armed guards.

Spotting the Count, the guards immediately stood at attention and heaved the gate open.

"My Lord."

Ulrich stepped into the cold, damp air of the stairwell with Meera still at his side, followed closely by the towering, silent presence of Edmar.

They descended the long, winding stairs. Reaching the bottom, they found the knight Ulrich had sent ahead. The man stood waiting, holding a specialized torch that burned brightly, fueled by a glowing mana stone rather than oil or wood.

"My Lord," the knight said, bowing slightly before turning to lead the way down the corridor.

"Everything looks remarkably new," Meera observed, her eyes scanning the stone blocks and sturdy ironwork.

She had assumed they were heading into the old Rubenhart dungeons. But everything down here gleamed with recent construction, and she wasn’t wrong.

Ulrich had no desire to rely on ancient, crumbling architecture. Every wall, bar, and lock had been recently built and reinforced with modern magic to ensure the prisoner could never escape.

There were even complex warding spells woven into the entrance, though the guards had already disabled them at Ulrich’s command.

Finally, after passing several empty cells, they reached the only one that was occupied.

Black iron bars sealed the room. The cell itself was surprisingly large, holding a simple mattress, a chamber pot, a small sink, and a tiny, barred window set high near the ceiling to let in a sliver of light.

"She is treated far better than I had assumed," Meera noted, peering through the bars.

There was a real bed, meaning the prisoner didn’t have to sleep on the freezing stone floor. She even had access to clean water.

Still, the entire atmosphere was suffocatingly dark and quite depressing.

As for the woman inside, Shana was curled tightly on the mattress. She wore only a thin, filthy white tunic, her bare feet tucked defensively beneath her.

Her dark hair was wildly unkempt, matted and dirty, much like her gaunt face and trembling arms.

Perhaps it wasn’t a very luxurious cell after all, Meera thought. But considering Ulrich’s hatred for witches, and the fact that this woman had tried to break into his home to abduct the sisters, it was practically a royal suite.

"Open it," Ulrich said.

The knight nodded immediately. He reached out and pressed his hand against a protruding stone pillar beside the cell door.

Instantly, a glowing runic spell ring flared to life, authenticating the guard’s mana signature before the locks clicked open with a loud clack.

A second guard stepped forward, pulling the iron door wide open for the Count.

"Careful, My Lord," the guard said softly.

Ulrich ignored the warning and stepped into the dim cell alone.

Shana’s body was turned toward the door. She was wide awake, meaning she had definitely heard his voice and their approaching footsteps.

Yet, her light brown eyes seemed completely vacant and empty. She stared blankly ahead, as if she were looking at something invisible, or perhaps just staring into nothingness at all.

However, when Ulrich stepped fully into the room and cast a long shadow over her, her hollow eyes blinked.

Her gaze drifted slowly from his tailored white shirt, traveling upward until it finally locked onto his face.

When she recognized Ulrich’s sharp features, half-shadowed by the pale sunlight, his deep crimson eyes burning into her, her entire body stiffened.

Her eyes widened in pure terror.

She scrambled frantically away from him. The iron shackles around her wrists and ankles rattled loudly against the stone as she pushed herself backward until her spine slammed hard against the wall.

Ulrich just stood there, towering over her in the gloom, staring down with an assessing stare.

"I am here to talk."