It was the fifth time that Pippa had spilled master’s wine on the table. Her hands were shaking as her magic ached for her to leave the manor and go to her Missy. The baby’s magic was reaching out, already recognizing that familial bond between the elf and the newest Nott Heir. She felt the snake whip make contact with her cheek, causing her skin to split open and blood to drip down her chin. 