Chapter 15
Selene blurted out, out of some sense of obligation to answer.
“I’ve never been to … before.”
With that, her head snapped and she stumbled away.
Barath tugged her across to the other side and leaned against him. This was a far cry from her earlier confident attitude towards alcohol.
The way she gasped for air as if she couldn’t handle the alcohol was both vulnerable and cute.
He thought back to when he’d first brought Selene to him.
The week before the wedding, and the week after.
He doesn’t know the who, the how, or the why, but he knows the when.
The wedding day. Specifically, at Choya, Selene changed.
Barath was sure, she changed then.
She must be a witch, he guessed. It was no coincidence that he had felt himself possessed by her on several occasions.
Barath sat as still as a statue for a long time, waiting for the carriage, unable to tear himself away from the occasional nuzzle against his chest.
She was as frail as a rabbit and wouldn’t be able to stay on a horse for long, and if she were to drink, she’d need a carriage on the way back, so he told them to bring a carriage with fluffy bedding.
It’s getting dark now, and Zart will bring the carriage in a little while.
***
The sun went down and the air began to chill, but there was no sound of a carriage in the distance.
In the meantime, Selene had completely leaned into Barath like sugar melting.
Her body began to tremble a little, and then she burrowed into his arms.
“Ughhh. I’m cold…”
Eventually, she whimpered and began to cling to his waist with her arms, bells ringing in his still head.
His whole body was getting stiff even without it, and now this distraught woman was stoking the fire.
He swallowed a sigh and tugged at his cloak, wrapping it around her.
As carefully as he could, he removed her arms from around his and picked her up.
He thought it was odd that she was so light when she seemed to have eaten quite a bit earlier, and he made his way into the cabin, careful not to wake her.
The only thing in the cabin was a fireplace. It hadn’t been built with any use in mind.
The problem was, there was no firewood.
The floor would be hard, but he’d have to put her down and go out and get some firewood.
As he lowered her as gently as he could and removed the arm that had last supported the back of her head, she jerked.
She rubbed her cheek against his arm as she searched for a comfortable place to rest, and he felt like a moth caught in a spider’s web, unable to move, staring at the top of her head.
He wondered why he was so immobilised by this woman. It must be because she was a witch.
‘If this woman is a witch, where is the real Selene?’
Is there any way to find her?
Selene, whose shivering had stopped since she entered the room, reached out her hand as if she were cold again.
At the sight of her fingertips, Barath opened the front flap of his vest, unfolded it, and lay down on his back. Somehow the woman in front of him knew, and slipped her hand coldly inside the vest, clinging to it.
A cool sensation touched his body, and a ragged breath escaped Barath’s mouth that he couldn’t hold back.
“…Hah.”
Startled by the sound himself, he shut his mouth and stared into space.
Selene was definitely wearing a vest. It was thin, but she was wearing it, and she had thrown her cloak over it. What a ridiculous sensation, and to his eyes, she was just a small, thin woman.
… This woman was a witch. He doesn’t know what she’s done to him, but he knows she’s something else.
He squeezed his eyes shut as he considered his options. He sighed several times, trying to calm his racing heart, but it didn’t work.
Finally, he covered her with the hem of his vest and pulled her into his arms.
He ignored the screams of instinct that screamed at him to hug her with all his might. Fear that the little sugar bunny would wake up choking on her breath. That this time would be broken.
He doesn’t know now.
He can’t help it if she’s a witch.
Witches of all colors can devour empires, but it’s strange that a mere mortal like me would be swallowed up.
Barath held her tightly, feeling the sensations being inflicted upon him. He likes the way she squirms in his arms.
He took another deep breath, but didn’t relax his hold on him, not even when he tried to wriggle out of the tightness.
Then, just when he thought he’d given up and was ready to let go, she slammed her knee into his leg.
This time Barath’s eyes widened in surprise and he froze, while Selene took over one of her legs and stretched her out again.
The unfamiliar sensation jolted him awake. He felt as if he were crumbling under the onslaught of her assault on his body.
Had the stimulus consumed his time?
As Barath struggled against himself, it began to brighten outside the window.
[Day 9]
Thankful that the sun had risen before he lost his nerve, he gingerly pulled his arm out from behind Selene’s head.
Then he ripped off his vest, draped it over Selene, and hurried outside.
Barath took a deep breath of the cold air and stretched. It had been such a… hard night.
As she hung a new pot over the fire pit, intending to make some hot soup in case it got cold again when she got outside, she heard the distant sound of a wagon pulling up.
***
Zart was nervous as he drew the carriage.
He had begun to feel uneasy last night, but he had been dragging his feet until dawn.
Anna had told him to be on the road by dawn, and he was on time, but he felt that he might as well have left yesterday.
‘I can’t help it if I get beaten up, I’ll have to kill her.’
He walked in, thinking the fence of that little house was the gates of hell, but what the hell, his master seemed to be in a bad mood.
He greeted him and he gestured for him to come closer, so he sat down.
He couldn’t understand what he was saying in a low whisper.
“I want you to identify any witches or shamans who were in the north before or after my wedding.”
Barath felt his stomach clench as he watched Zart nod in confusion. There had to be a way to find the original Selene, and he wondered if he could find it.
If there was one person in this world that Barath could trust, it was Zart. He ponders, and eventually decides to elaborate.
“I think Selene was switched on her wedding day, and I need to find the ‘real’ Selene.”
His words stunned Zart.
“It can’t be. There was no sign of intrusion in her inner sanctum.”
Barath nodded at his words. He had a point.
“It is likely that only the soul was altered, not the body. If we can find a witch or shaman who was in the north at the time, we might be able to find the ‘real’ Selene.”
As Zart mulled over his words, he suddenly jumped to his feet and called out.
“Lady, you’re out.”
Selene stepped out, running a hand through her slightly tousled hair, and stopped in her tracks, startled by the unfamiliar voice.
Barath’s eyes lit up at the sight of her defenceless form. Reflexively rising to his feet, he walked over to Selene, handed her the dress and coat Zart had prepared for her, and pushed her back into the log cabin.
He had no intention of letting her out in those clingy riding breeches.
“Change and come out.”
Once he had her inside and closed the door, he wondered if the dress he’d handed her had straps, and if so, where they were. If the straps were in the back, maybe he should go in to tie them.
After a while, Selene, who dressed well on her own, came out neatly and returned the vest to him.
Barath took his vest and put it on, saying.
“Viscount Augustus, servant of Zart. You will see him often, so familiarize yourself with his face.”
Selene nodded. She remembers he was briefly featured in the original. She thinks she said he was as crazy as his Lord.
She turned to Zart, who smiled wryly at me.
“It’s nice to meet you. I wish you well in your future endeavors.”
As soon as her words were out of her mouth, Barath and Zart’s eyes met in the air. It was brief, and Zart quickly bowed deeply, as if he didn’t want Selene to notice.
Zart had personally brought Selene to Velias from her homeland, and they had spoken a few times in the inner sanctum before the wedding, but to treat her like a stranger?
He doesn’t need to think about her anymore. He didn’t need any other proof.
***
The chill breeze that came through the crack in the door and the sound of the door closing woke her up as Barath left Selene with her vest on.
She didn’t have the courage to follow him outside, not remembering if she was drunk or grouchy.
She tried to sit up, but the soreness in her muscles made her lie back down. So much for horse riding being a full-body workout.
She didn’t realize it, but Selene’s body was already used to riding, so it was just stiff from all the tension.
Selene pulled the vest over her, covering her up to her nose. The vest, which was large enough that she didn’t need a blanket, smelled faintly of wood.
As she savoured the feeling of being snuggled up against him, she heard the sound of a carriage outside.
It was probably Anna, and soon there was a murmur, and it seemed they were having a conversation.
One word in the conversation caught Selene’s ear.
‘The real Selene?’
She held her breath and moved to where she thought she could best hear their conversation and listened.
‘… Souls only… Find Selene…’
‘Find the real Selene, soul-swapped,’ she guessed, piecing together the words that sounded mangled and the ones that sounded solid in the middle.
