Agnes Waterhouse Novels & Stories

There were lots of good humans just as there were lots of bad humans. “You are more than worthy, Eunice. Do you know if there is something I can eat? or can I have a glass of water?” I asked. I had eaten nothing except the little Audrey had fed me before sending me to Larog and so I was famished. “Dear me! In my excitement, I have forgotten. I am sorry, Agnes,” she said and a few minutes later she produced a tray with a glass of water and a bowl of steaming soup. I took the water and when I had drunk greedily from the glass I smiled to show my appreciation.

Agnes had been very busy dealing with this matter and lost a lot of weight in the past two months. However, these people seemed to have made up their minds to take Agnes down and swallow Gopher Delivery Services. “Mr. Grey, please stay and we can discuss further. However, your price of 500 million is too high. I’m afraid we can’t agree to it.” Agnes rushed out at this time. Wearing a white shirt, a pale pink skirt, and a pair of black high heels with her hair in a ponytail, she looked very capable and intellectual.

Agnes murmured, flopping onto the cotton sheets with a sigh. “No, it’s not!” I hissed back, eying the doorway. “We’re under constant guard now.” “We were before, too.” “Not like this.” “There’s a full bathroom!” Agnes exclaimed, nodding toward one of the half-closed doorways. “I wonder if there’s a bathtub.” I stared at her dubiously. “Don’t tell me you’re being taken in by all this!” “I’m taken in with the idea of washing my hair for the first time in weeks!” she countered, sitting up.

A wave separated from the pier and, covering Chaos’ body, froze his limbs, surrounded him with a dense water ball and lifted him into the air. “Do as you're told, and maybe I'll help you find out who killed your brothers,” Agnes croaked, holding a clawed hand clenched above her. The rejuvenated fingers were silvered with scales. The wrinkles on her face smoothed out, returning her to her former cold beauty. Black curls fell over her shoulders, glam up her nondescript dress with its luxury.

Sometimes, Agnes felt like her daughter could pay more attention to the finer things in life. “I’m living alone. I don’t need a maid. Besides, I’m too busy working all day. I don’t see a point in hiring a maid.” Darcy went to the kitchen to grab herself a drink. She also got her mother a bottle of water. However, Agnes waved her hand dismissively at the sight of the bottled water. “I can’t drink water at night. Can you brew me a pot of chamomile tea?” Agnes ate quite a lot today. She needed to move around before her shower instead of heading straight to bed.

" With a single sentence, my mate dismissed every sacrifice I had made for this household. He was tired of me, yet he still craved my cooking. No—because he thought I was the cheapest maid. A bitter laugh slipped past my lips as I pressed the pen down and signed my name. After Lucas left, I went to meet Ms. Murphy. On my way, I ran into Amy, who was watering the flowers in front of her house. She greeted me with her usual cheerfulness. "Mrs. Howl, did you and Mr. Howl fight? He stormed out this morning, looking furious. He'd even asked me for a sandwich."

Here, there was only the soothing, rhythmic lapping of warm water against stone. Agnes stood near the edge of the submerged stone steps, holding a heavy crystal decanter filled with concentrated mineral salts designed to draw out the final, stubborn traces of blue-wolfsbane from Rhys’s deep bone tissue. She had discarded her formal gown and lab gear, wearing only a practical, dark linen tunic and fitted shorts that clung lightly to her form in the humid, vapor-filled air. Her dark hair was coiled up, a few damp strands curling softly against her neck.

Agnes says and I rise from my seat without thinking. “What does that mean?” The dowager asks. “She hasn’t eaten or taken a single drop of water. She doesn’t receive guests or even…speak to her friend.” Agnes says. “Are you sure she didn’t hurt herself?” Camille asks. “No, I saw her standing by the window of her bedroom when I got to the estate. I knocked on her door but she didn’t open, she told me to leave.” Anges says. The dowager turns towards me.