Wentworth gazed at the myriad paper cranes in his hands, a cherished collection that had weathered the passage of time.

After a contemplative moment, he spoke softly, “It’s truly beautiful.”

The sight of the paper cranes, along with the reminiscent of his memories, made Wentworth feel nostalgic for a moment before he had his mind back to his body.

Simultaneously, memories of encountering Cassandra for the first time flooded Wentworth’s mind.

The slender figure of the girl with golden curls gracefully approached, her most captivating feature being the dark green pupils that set her apart.

“Miss Cassandra! This is our latest creation. Though it may seem like an ordinary Paper Crane, it possesses the ability for long-distance dream communication! Soon, our Paper Crane will surpass even the use of owls!”

“Do you take me for a child enamored with dolls and origami paper cranes?” Cassandra replied with an annoyed tone as she gave the salesman a cynical stare.

“Miss Cassandra, when the Paper Crane leaves your hand and lands in another’s, that is considered activation! In the future, whatever the young master scribes on the Paper Crane, you can dream about it as you sleep!” The salesman didn’t give up on trying to get his product to Cassandra’s hand.

With this in mind, Wentworth hesitated no longer.

He delicately placed the Paper Crane on the table before him, then meticulously inscribed his thoughts on the paper with the quill in his hand.

Later that night, on the outskirts of London, Cassandra lay in her bed in the Vole family’s manor, restlessly tossing and turning until the late hours.

If one were to enter Cassandra’s room at this moment, they would discover a peculiar broom beside her sleeping form.

Meanwhile, Cassandra, lying on the bed, had a trace of tears in the corner of her eye.

During her slumber, Cassandra found herself in a peculiar dream.

An immensely colossal formation of a thousand paper cranes traversed the sky, eventually alighting beside her.

Two distinct scenes were illustrated on one side of the Paper Crane.

The first depicted the entrance of a manor, within which a solitary figure approached the estate.

The second showcased the manor’s entrance, featuring a broom nearby and the silhouette of an individual seemingly departing from the estate.

As Cassandra awoke from her dream, the room was already bathed in the soft glow of dawn, accompanied by the melodious tunes of early birdsong.

Cassandra widened her sleepy eyes, meticulously recollecting the details of her dream.

A wry smile played on her lips as she muttered to herself, “Wentworth? Wentworth Grindelwald! Are you skeptical, or do you truly grasp it all? Is this the might of the Alliance leader?”

With her heart in turmoil, Cassandra chose to wake up rather than continue her sleep.

As Cassandra lapsed into silence, her door swung ajar from the outside, revealing the delicate face that had almost haunted her nightmares.

Christine walked in slowly, addressing Cassandra, who remained prone on the bed, “Miss Cassandra, with such an unforgettable day tomorrow, how can you still be sleeping? Although, it’s not too early. Would you like to come and have breakfast together? After all, you are the mistress of this manor now!”

Unmoved, Cassandra rose from the bed, revealing an elegant silk pajama ensemble.

Subsequently, she nonchalantly changed into her customary exercise attire in front of Christine.

Observing this, Christine furrowed her brow and voiced some perplexity, “Don’t you prefer to wear more suitable attire for breakfast? It doesn’t quite align with aristocratic etiquette!”

Cassandra shook her head and replied, “No, I simply have no appetite at the moment, so I plan to exercise first.” Holding the broom beside her bed, Cassandra made her way out.

Christine hesitated momentarily before following Cassandra to the manor’s lawn.

Cassandra mounted the sleek broom, soaring over her estate, while Christine watched closely from below.

After a while, Cassandra descended from the sky, addressing Christine, “What? Worried I might leave my Father behind and escape alone?”

Christine laughed, her face radiant, “No, Miss Cassandra, you’ve misunderstood. I’m just concerned about your well-being. I’m here to observe, merely ensuring your safety!”

“What kind of safety do you even ensure when you have my Father held as hostage along with me? Miss Christine, tell me… Who do you truly work for?” Cassandra shot a curious glare as she finished her sentence.

Christine could only stay silent while returning the stare; the bitter feelings in her heart made her feel more broken with each second while she held these two captives.

A look of disdain crossed Cassandra’s face as she rolled off her broom, casually tossing it by the manor gate’s fence.

Angrily, she marched into the manor, declaring, “It’s tedious! Rest assured, I won’t abandon my Father!”

As Cassandra passed by Christine, she caught a glimpse out of the corner of her eye that Christine seemed fixated on the broom she had left by the manor’s entrance.

Every time she has her eyes on Cassandra, she feels like the child in front of her is hiding something that she couldn’t put together…

Cassandra’s heart raced momentarily, but she continued walking without pause, remarking, “The weather is pleasant today. I’ll hang out my clothes to dry!”

Christine’s attention was truly piqued by Cassandra’s words. She immediately trailed behind and said, “I advise you to be honest! What clothes are you drying? Are you attempting to convey information to someone?!”

Under her observation, she made sure Cassandra wouldn’t even be able to dream about anything slightest resembling of freedom.

Christine even extended her hands, gripping Cassandra’s shoulders and pulling her closer.

Cassandra winced and retorted, “What’s got you so tense? Do you think I have a chance to communicate with the outside world? Besides, it’s just drying clothes. How could I transmit messages?”

Christine stared into Cassandra’s eyes for a prolonged moment before releasing her grip.

She spoke with a touch of pride, “I suggest you refrain from pointless activities these next two days and stay put in your room!”

Cassandra’s lips twitched slightly at Christine’s words, and she appeared somewhat disdainful. “Miss Christine, it seems you’re more anxious than I am! You know, the banquet is tomorrow, yet today you seem suspicious and uneasy!”

“This plan is evidently your creation, but strangely, from you, I sense fear! What are you… afraid of?” Cassandra inquired with somehow an innocent look.

Behind her definite anger against Christine, she is genuinely curious as to why she is hell bound on checking any suspicious activities when Christine herself has put her daily life under strict surveillance.

Christine’s expression shifted, and she abruptly raised her right hand. It seemed like she might slap Cassandra in the next moment, but at the final instant, Christine restrained herself.

“Cassandra, I advise you not to try to provoke me; it won’t bode well for you!”

With those words, Christine strode away. Feeling sour that she somehow lost against a child, she clicked her tongue audibly.