Chapter 12
Cheshion was tormented by the presence of this beauty who might—just might—be a witch. The irony wasn’t lost on him: the man who abolished witch hunts might now be harboring one in his own home.‘No, this is just my paranoia speaking.’
There was one place where he could get a definitive answer. Cheshion decided to take Mori there.
Gremory was taken aback when she tried to pull up the blanket—there wasn’t just one. Cheshion had piled on thick blankets, one after another.
She liked how her nest had grown even cozier.
Gremory loved the beautiful sights of the human world. The cityscape Cheshion had shown her the other day had been lovely, so she had no doubt whatever he wanted to show her next would be just as stunning.
She burrowed into the colorful heap of blankets, poking only her face out as she settled in to sleep. Cheshion’s soft chuckle reached her ears.
If this adorable, peculiar woman really was a witch, it would be absurd.
But of course, that couldn’t be the case.
The next morning, something amusing happened.
Isollen banged on Gremory’s door, excitement in her voice.
Spotting prey, Gremory dashed excitedly to the garden with Isollen.
Diana, the Crown Prince’s concubine, knelt on the bare ground, her long red hair disheveled. Servants crowded around, murmuring amongst themselves.
Even Anna had come out to watch, but Cheshion himself was nowhere to be seen. Gremory glanced toward the windows of his study—the curtains were drawn. He was probably plugging his ears, focusing on work.
Gremory stared intently at Diana. The darkness in her heart was plain to see.
Oh? It was swollen to its limit. A single nudge would make her self-destruct. And she even had a knife hidden in her chest—as if she planned to stab Cheshion if he appeared.
Gremory poked at the darkness in Diana’s heart.
Instantly, Diana began screaming like a madwoman.
The crowd buzzed with shock. Even Isollen took a step back, unnerved.
Gremory dug deeper into Diana’s secrets. Oh-ho? This woman had committed quite a few crimes.
As if possessed, Diana wailed and confessed every sin. Black tears streaked with smeared mascara ran down her face, making her look increasingly grotesque.
And then Diana—
—pulled out her hidden knife and slit her throat without hesitation.
……Silence engulfed the scene.
Gremory, savoring the taste, suddenly locked eyes with Cheshion through the study window. Startled, he quickly closed the curtains again, pretending he hadn’t seen anything.
Unbothered, Gremory left with Isollen.
That night, Cheshion took Mori to the Emerald Forest.
Unlike the mindless beasts of the volcanic lands, the creatures here were noble and highly intelligent.
When Cheshion had first been exiled to the Grand Duchy, people assumed he’d have his hands full—between the volcanic beasts invading every spring and the Emerald Forest’s inhabitants baring their fangs. The forest dwellers despised humans settling near their lands.
But Cheshion had solved everything. The volcanic beasts were handled with sheer combat prowess, while the intelligent Emerald creatures were placated with a mutual non-aggression pact.
Inside the carriage heading to the forest, Cheshion explained kindly. The damp forest scent drifted in through the open window.
Cheshion had a thought: the forest’s creatures would be able to tell if Mori was a witch.
Finally, the Emerald Forest came into view. By day, it looked like an ordinary forest, but at night, it glowed faintly in hues of emerald and silver—leaves, trunks, roots, soil, even the feathers of the spirit birds flitting through the air.
Gremory took Cheshion’s outstretched hand as they walked. The damp earth squished pleasantly underfoot.
Cheshion watched her sparkling eyes and smiled wryly. She had a habit of becoming pure and childlike when faced with beautiful sights. He’d noticed it when he showed her the cityscape before.
Then—blue wolves emerged from the trees. Cheshion bowed politely to their leader.
But—
The wolves surrounding them began baring their fangs.
Shali, the alpha of the blue wolves, growled, claws unsheathed. How dare a witch set foot on sacred land? This foolish lord had clearly already been bewitched.
The more Cheshion talked, the more Shali’s head hurt. That woman is a witch! And not just any witch—one radiating the kind of dark magic only high-tier demons could sense!
But how was he supposed to explain this to this clueless lord? Leaving things be might bring disaster. While he had no obligation to protect the man, letting this slide felt wrong. If this witch entered the Emerald Forest, the entire sanctuary could be at risk.
For the sake of peace between the Grand Duchy and the forest, Shali decided to enlighten this idiot.
He smoothed the ground with his paw, then carefully wrote in human script with a claw:
He managed that much, but it had been so long since he’d written human words that they came out crooked.
Shali continued writing.
But… how did you write ‘witch’ again?
Gremory, now grasping the situation, smirked at Shali. Frustrated, the wolf angrily scrubbed out the words with his paw and tried again.
Shali, now thoroughly irritated, clutched his head in agony before finally giving up.
Cheshion beamed. If Shali was allowing them into the forest, it was definitive proof—Mori couldn’t possibly be a witch.
