Unnamed Memory - Volume 3 - Chapter 2

2. The Outcast’s Thorn

Farsas had a mild, temperate climate year-round, but it grew chillier for two to three months a year.

On one enjoyable day, a cool breeze blew in from the open windows.

At work in his study, Oscar heard the faint sound of someone singing on the breeze and paused. It was the witch’s voice.

Lazar looked up from the pile of papers he’d tidied. “That’s Miss Tinasha. It’s rare for her to sing.”

“Wonder what’s going on,” said Oscar.

He’d heard Tinasha sing numerous times before, but it had always been for some purpose. He wondered if she had a reason now, too.

The king puzzled over it as he went about his work with her tune as background noise. Oscar frowned when he saw Lazar depart with a pile of papers only to return with a plate of candies. “What are you doing with that?”

“Ah, well, I bumped into Pamyra… We got to talking about the singing, and she gave me these.”

“I don’t understand… Is she up to something again?” Oscar inquired.

By “she,” he didn’t mean Pamyra, but the witch Pamyra served. Lazar tilted his head in bafflement, placing the dish of sweets on Oscar’s desk.

Ten minutes later, the plate was empty.

“And that’s how you cast a curse song,” Tinasha concluded. Her tune completed, she looked to Als and Meredina with a strained smile on her face.

The usual group of mages was assembled in the lounge, joined today by the two military officers. They had been brought in to serve as test subjects, so to speak.

The mages watched Als and Meredina with bated breath, but the two had no idea why everyone was staring at them so intently. Completely unaware, Als took a sip of his tea. It was so full of sugar that not all of it had dissolved.

The mage Renart turned away in disgust. “I could get heartburn just looking at that…”

“And yet he has no idea. Amazing.”

“That’s how it works,” explained the witch, wetting her throat with a sip of her own, unsweetened, tea. After taking some deep breaths and doing some stretching, she resumed her lecture. “However, curse songs are never especially powerful, because they are fundamentally the same as curses. Casting them on a large number of people will weaken their efficacy, and mages can resist their influence without too much trouble.”

Upon hearing that, Doan piped up with interest, “How many people can one realistically control?”

“Hmm, it depends on the caster’s abilities, but curse songs should be able to manipulate people’s moods and simple actions. However, it’s difficult to make them do anything that would directly harm others or themselves if they did not originally desire to do so in the first place. Where curse songs excel is their power to compel people to take spontaneous action without being aware that they’re being manipulated. The victim is lucid and conscious.”

Everyone looked at Als. He scooped up the remaining sugar in his cup and ate it.

Sylvia gazed at him sympathetically. “Can a curse song be undone…?”

“Only if it’s designed to be. That’s why the most dangerous curse songs are the ones sung by those who are unaware of what they are. While that does occasionally happen, those singers typically don’t possess a significant amount of magic, so the effect will wear off naturally with time. Another way to cure the effects is to purge the magic that entered the listener’s body,” answered Tinasha.

Sylvia nodded, and then it was Kav’s turn to ask a question. “So then what if the curse is placed intentionally by a powerful mage?”

“It would be pretty difficult to undo,” the witch admitted, letting out a little sigh and cocking her head thoughtfully to one side, then the other, then back again. “You would need time and effort to break a curse song with a solid spell configuration woven into it. One basic complication of curse songs is that they must be sung well to be effective. It must make the listener focus on the tune. If they are paying only partial attention, the effects won’t sink in. The caster must have both magic and musical talent, which sets the bar high in terms of prerequisites.”

“I see,” Kav responded. The mages all bobbed their heads, though Als and Meredina did not. Not many people could sing a curse song, so this was a good learning experience for the mages. Throughout history, many unsolved cases had borne footnotes acknowledging that the various curious circumstances could have been the result of curse songs. No such incident had been recorded in the past three hundred years, however.

Meredina was silent; she knew they were discussing music, but she couldn’t grasp the nuances. She took a sugar cube out of the jar and munched on it. All eyes went to her, and the witch frowned. “This is getting to be unhealthy, so I’ll undo the spell.”

“Tinasha!”

The cry of her name came from the doorway, and she flinched reflexively. There was only one person in the castle who called her by just her name and nothing else. She turned around nervously to see Oscar standing there looking extremely unhappy.

“Wh-what is it…?” she asked.

“You did something with your song just now, didn’t you?”

“You heard it?!” she exclaimed in surprise.

“It appears he did, and I gave him a plate of candies…,” said Pamyra with a pained look on her face.

The witch was speechless.

“I feel sick,” complained Oscar.

“I’m sorry…,” replied the witch, hanging her head again. She’d undone the curse. Als was slumped over the desk, moaning about heartburn. Oscar was downing some strong tea. Never in his life had he consumed so much candy. He felt nauseous. Meredina, however, wasn’t quite as weak to sugary things. She was quietly sipping at a cup of straight tea.

Oscar turned a baleful eye to Tinasha. “Maybe you should have summoned some other people to this castle.”

“I set it to wear off in thirty minutes… Ow, ow, ow!” she cried. Oscar was grinding his fists against her temples as he glared around at the other mages. They all wore guilty looks, hanging their heads as their king reprimanded them.

“I was glad for the rare treat of your song, and here you were up to no good,” Oscar said.

“I believed a practical demonstration would be the easiest to understand…,” Tinasha answered.

Oscar had found it strange that she was singing for no reason, but the purpose had turned out to be more terrible than he could have suspected. Not only that, but her song was also infused with magic, just like one that had until recently been leading people to their deaths. Oscar recalled what he’d learned back during that incident. “If the song is done well, it can control people’s hearts to some degree even if there’s no magic behind it, right?”

“If it’s written well, too, yes. That’s actually very rare,” responded Tinasha.

“You are strangely good at singing,” he accused.

“I did once make my living as a singer,” she replied.

Everyone was surprised to hear this unexpected bit of Tinasha lore. She had lived in the Tuldarr palace as a potential queen until she was thirteen and became a witch. Oscar suddenly realized he didn’t know when exactly she’d moved into her tower. He cast a doubtful look at Tinasha, and she winced.

“The first hundred years I was a witch, I did a lot of different things. I didn’t know how to live alone. Still, I hated humans at the time, so I focused on activities I could do without needing to talk with anyone.”

“So singing,” Oscar deduced.

“Right after I left my country, I turned into a sort of adventurer. I learned sword fighting a little later on. It’s good to try out all kinds of things,” Tinasha said with a peaceful smile. It was unimaginable to think of her as someone who had once despised people. However, when one considered the events leading up to her becoming a witch, it had been practically unavoidable.

Tinasha had grown up in the royal palace of Tuldarr since infancy, knowing nothing of things beyond the walls. Then she suddenly lost everything and found herself pushed out alone into the world. What had she gone through to get here? Thinking of her four hundred years of hardships, Oscar could only stroke the witch’s hair. She closed her eyes happily as he did.

Oscar didn’t think he’d ever understand all of what she’d gone through. It would be arrogant to believe he could.

Tinasha had walked her own path, and she was here now.

Realizing that everyone regarded her with pity, the witch rushed to dismiss their concerns. “Oh no, it’s nothing like what you must be imagining. I was pretty wild.”

“You were wild, huh?” said Oscar.

“Well… Yes…,” Tinasha answered with a nod, giving him a hesitant smile.

Witches tended to be fickle creatures who wreaked havoc, but Tinasha now was nothing like that. Resting his chin on one hand, Oscar eyed her. “Sounds like you cast a curse song or two.”

“…………”

“…Don’t tell me you actually did.”

“No—well… Mm…,” Tinasha replied evasively. She took a sip of tea as everyone stared at her. She pressed a finger to her temple. “To be totally honest, almost all the curse song incidents that broke out right after the fall of Tuldarr were my doing. They’re probably the limit of that sort of magic.”

“…What?”

All were stunned silent. Even Oscar had nothing to say.

The events Tinasha was referring to were all ancient historical mysteries. One involved a city in Gandona suddenly lifting off and landing in different places. Another involved the members of a massive band of weapon thieves attacking one another while preparing for their next raid. The one thing all the witnesses from each case had in common was testifying that they had heard a woman singing, which had made people conclude that a curse song was responsible.

Having revealed that she was the culprit, Tinasha sipped awkwardly at her tea. Oscar stared at her with some exasperation. “What did you think you were doing…?”

“At the time, I was young and short tempered,” she explained.

“You’re pretty short tempered now, too,” he shot back.

“I’ve actually gotten a lot better!” Tinasha objected, and that was the end of the subject.

Minister of the Interior Nessan, several other magistrates, and Chief Mage Kumu assembled for a conference. They brought with them the year’s reports from major cities, compiled for posterity.

A new king had taken the throne. However, even prior to his coronation, Oscar had assumed almost all of his father’s duties, so there were no particular issues in the domestic affairs of Farsas. The magistrates tied a cord around the pile of reports and paused for a break.

The year ended next month. Though there had been many troubles in recent days, it looked like things would wrap up with no significant issues. The group of politicians felt like a weight had been lifted from their shoulders as they made their way down the hall to the records vault.

“Now, if we could just get an heir, all our troubles would be gone,” said one magistrate nonchalantly. Nessan and Kumu grimaced. It had taken fifteen years to be able to indulge hopes like that. A witch’s curse had robbed the Farsas royal lineage of any future succession, but a different witch had recently broken that hex. Only a select few knew of all that, however.

“It wouldn’t take long if Lady Tinasha would just acquiesce.”

“She might make the most beautiful queen in our history.”

“…But she’s a witch. I can’t consent to that.”

The curt comment put an end to the lighthearted talk. The surly magistrate who’d interrupted the flow of conversation was the head of financial affairs, Norman. In terms of age, he was nearing his prime, and he made no secret of his disgust as he spat, “There’s far more suitable candidates. Even if you weren’t serious, nothing about the idea of taking a witch for our queen is funny to me.”

“Well… Yes, she’s a witch, but she’s the queen of Tuldarr,” one magistrate pointed out mildly.

Tinasha was the rightful successor to the Magic Empire from four hundred years ago. That was why she’d inherited Tuldarr’s traditional twelve mystical spirits, as well as numerous other legacies. Her vast knowledge was a fortune in things thought lost to the ages.

Yet Norman remained unflinching in his position. “Queen? Her country hasn’t existed for a long time. It’s downright unseemly that someone has survived for four centuries after the destruction of their country.”

“No, she—,” Chief Mage Kumu began, starting to inform Norman of why he was wrong. But he hesitated.

Why had Tinasha lived as a witch for so long? It was to free the souls of her people, trapped by a forbidden curse when Tuldarr fell. While none could rival her in strength, it had taken her four hundred long years to see that goal completed. It was heartrending to imagine how much she must have suffered in that time. Still, it wasn’t Kumu’s place to inform others of her circumstances without permission.

And besides—the people of this world shunned the witches.

A belief that had persisted for centuries wouldn’t be changed so quickly. Even if Kumu told Norman the truth about Tinasha, it didn’t mean Norman would think favorably of her.

After several seconds of contemplation, Kumu noticed someone standing in the shadows of the intersecting hallway. When he met her gaze, she offered him an awkward smile while pressing a finger to her lips. Next to her was the lady mage who served her, eyes blazing with rage as she glared at the entire entourage.

“Oh…,” murmured Nessan from his place next to Kumu as he caught sight of her there. That made everyone stop in their tracks; they realized that the person they were discussing had heard every word.

While most of the magistrates looked ashamed, Norman stood firm against the witch. “If you heard us talking, then that simplifies things. Do you acknowledge that you are the harlot that’s ruining our country?”

“The harlot that’s ruining the country? I’m not trying to do anything of the sort,” Tinasha answered.

“That’s going too far, Norman,” Nessan scolded, but the witch held up a hand to stop him.

“It’s fine. I’ve heard worse before, and I’m used to it. Please don’t feel concerned on my behalf,” she said.

“But…,” Nessan argued, clearly torn.

Norman pushed him aside and stepped forward. “As long as His Majesty is obsessed with you, our country will have no queen. I believe just the other day you wedged your way into marriage talks with Duke Soanos’s daughter?”

“Ah, that was… Well, yes. I’m sorry…,” Tinasha apologized, abashed.

“I’m glad you seem to be conscious of it. Evidently, there isn’t much time left in your contract, so I trust that you’ll settle your accounts properly.”

Norman’s defiant remarks made Tinasha’s dark eyes grow wide. Immediately, she winced.

“I can erase Oscar’s memories.”

“Miss Tinasha, that wouldn’t be—,” protested Kumu, face paling at her casual suggestion. Except for Norman, the other magistrates appeared similarly shaken. They were all well aware of how much their king treasured the witch. From birth, Oscar had been saddled with inescapable obligations; his fondness for her was the one personal attachment he displayed. Would he allow someone to take that away just because it got in the way of his duties?

Tinasha shrugged, picking up on how everyone was flabbergasted. “But Oscar would be furious if he found out, so we’d have to proceed carefully. He’s terrifying when he gets mad… I don’t want to make him angry…”

“Scary? You, a witch, find him scary? How preposterous,” snorted Norman. “That said, it appears you’re aware of the sort of filthy creature you are. Very good. Know your place.”

“How dare you—”

“Pamyra, calm down,” Tanasha soothed with a light pat to Pamyra’s shoulder. “It’s fine. Witches, after all, are bringers of disaster. We wield too much power for one individual to possess. I’m glad that some haven’t forgotten that. It’s simply a fact that witches are to be despised.”

Her self-deprecating speech left Norman and the rest of the magistrates astonished.

Over the nine months since she’d come to the castle, Tinasha had acted as Oscar’s protector and assisted with many different things. While none could question that, the witch had also found herself at the center of multiple controversial events, such as the recent war. And even if Tinasha was friendly with Farsas, other witches were not—namely the Witch of Silence, who had placed the curse on the royal family.

Instinctively, Kumu let out a sigh. Perhaps because of his frequent association with Tinasha, he’d half forgotten that. The other bureaucrats probably felt the same. Tinasha smiled at them like a flower under the moonlight, then led Pamyra away.

The group watched them go. Only Norman glared balefully at her as she walked away.

“I want to rip up that rude mouth of his!” fumed Pamyra, still hissing mad. She and her lady were now walking along a corridor that faced the gardens.

“Calm down,” Tinasha urged, a wry smile on her lips. The truth was, she’d suffered far worse abuse throughout her long life. Norman’s remarks were on the more mature side…and entirely to be expected.

Tinasha flipped back her long braid. “He wasn’t wrong.”

“Don’t say that yourself!” cried Pamyra.

The witch froze with a start. Outside, the sun was just starting to set. Tinasha looked up at the sky and clapped her hands together as if recalling something. “Pamyra, let’s go for a stroll.”

“What?”

Immediately after that, the two of them floated up into the sky. Pamyra wasn’t flying on her own. The witch was using her magic to levitate them both. With a wide-eyed Pamyra in tow, Tinasha floated up higher into the sky. Soon the castle looked like a miniature of itself, encircled by the surrounding city.

Once the two women were nearly touching the clouds, Tinasha finally halted their ascent. “Go on, look out at the scenery and calm down,” Tinasha instructed blithely, crossing her legs in midair and settling into that pose.

The cityscape spread out far below them. The sight seemed to go on forever, and Pamyra couldn’t help freezing up in fear. While she could use magic to fly, she’d never come up this high before. Thankfully, it wasn’t cold or hard to breathe, because Tinasha had erected a barrier around them.

Taking deep breaths, Pamyra calmed herself down. As her fear faded, so did her anger.

Looking to the west, she saw that faint red streaks were already beginning to appear on the horizon. The slow gradient from crimson to deep blue made for an incomparably stunning sight.

Pamyra cast a sidelong glance at her lady. “You’re very tolerant.”

“I’m not, though. I just think I shouldn’t forget what I am,” Tinasha replied, smiling like an innocent girl. Her clear, fleeting expression gave Pamyra the notion that Tinasha’s entire existence was an illusion. She worried that if she looked away, the witch would disappear.

“Were you serious about what you said back there, Lady Tinasha? About tampering with His Majesty’s memories…”

“Yes, if it becomes necessary. Psychological magic works on him.”

“B-but if you do that, he’ll forget all about you!”

The witch had lived in solitude for four hundred years, alone with her thoughts.

For someone like her, life in the castle must have been her first hard-won bit of peace. The king had gifted it to her with all his love. If Oscar’s memory of it all was erased, Tinasha would have to return to her solitude. That was what Pamyra meant when she protested.

“Even if he forgets, I’ll remember. So it’s fine,” Tinasha said in a lilting whisper.

She gave Pamyra a sunny grin. “I just want him to find happiness normally. That’s enough for me to be happy, too.”

“…Lady Tinasha.”

The witch’s eyes betrayed no lie. But for her to desire that Oscar be contented, even if he forgot her—that was certainly not romantic love.

Swallowing back what she wanted to say, Pamyra gazed at her lady’s lovely face. Tinasha caught her glance and broke into a wide grin. “But I’m positive that he’ll carry out his duty properly, even if I don’t do anything. He’s very strong. That man’s confident, and he doesn’t hesitate. Me, on the other hand, I’ve always—”

Tinasha broke off there, closing her eyes.

The lonely witch living all alone in a tower.

The truth was that Tinasha had bid farewell to every previous person she’d formed a contract with and returned to her isolated home. It was natural for a creature like her to exist with a loneliness unlike anything others experienced.

However, the reason she’d lived all these years was gone now. At present, Tinasha’s only purpose was to act as the king’s protector. And that would end in three months.

She had atoned for the past, and yet she remained.

The queen without a throne stared off into the northwest, toward where her homeland had once stood. “…Why am I still living?”

“What are you saying?!” cried Pamyra sharply, the exclamation causing Tinasha to flinch slightly. She had let that question slip unconsciously, and now Pamyra looked close to tears.

Tinasha rushed to reach out for the other woman. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say such ridiculous things! If you want to die, live among other humans and meet your end as one of them! I won’t stand for anything else!”

“You can’t be serious…,” Tinasha said, at a complete loss as to how to respond. Pamyra was doing her best to hold back sobs.

Had things gone as planned, Tinasha would have become the Magic Empire’s queen and lived out a life of luxury and ease. Why then was she now considering simply ending her life? Didn’t she deserve to hope for some joy to balance out her long suffering?

Cutting off a sniffle, Pamyra evenly met Tinasha’s eyes. “You should let yourself be happy… That’s my wish for you.”

Tinasha gasped slightly before wrapping Pamyra in her slender arms. In her ear, the witch whispered, “I’m plenty content. Thank you.”

Her voice was captivatingly beautiful, tinged with a kindness that spoke of sadness.

Within the warmth of the witch’s arms, Pamyra closed her wet eyes. More than anyone in the world, she desired for her lady to be happy. Yet all she’d managed was to get Tinasha to soothe her like one would a child. It reminded Pamyra that she was powerless compared to her lady and that only one could reach the witch.

The person who was her equal, the man she’d signed a contract with.

When Tinasha saw that Pamyra had finally settled down, she gave her a calm smile. The witch loosened her hold on her attendant and pointed far into the distance. “Look, the sky’s beautiful.”

The sun had set, and only the very edge of the horizon was tinted red.

The sky was a brilliant shade of blue—not entirely dark or light, just the exact color it was.

As Tinasha beheld the entrancing hue, something occurred to her, and she retrieved a crystal sphere from her waist pouch. Using no incantation, she wove a spell and poured it into the ball.

“What are you doing?” inquired Pamyra.

“I’m making a copy of the color.”

Even as Tinasha spoke, the crystal sphere was turning the exact shade of the sky. After half a minute, the globe contained a whole world of sunset. Pamyra let out a small sound of wonder.

The bright hue of early night was precisely the color of Oscar’s eyes.

Tinasha held the little globe before her face. “…What a pretty color,” she remarked.

The witch recalled when she’d first met him—and everything that had happened since.

None could question that he treasured her.

Like a young child.

Like a woman.

Tinasha had never heard of someone guarding their own protector. She was scared of how natural he made it seem.

She stared at the crystal sphere.

“I guess a year was a long time…”

Why did admitting as much make her heart ache? She didn’t know.

After finishing work and changing clothes in his chambers, Oscar heard a light rap at his balcony door. Immediately, he broke into a grin. When he gave the okay, the witch entered.

Oscar turned around and immediately recognized that something about Tinasha was different, although he couldn’t put his finger on precisely what. She looked the tiniest bit shaken.

“Did something happen?” he asked.

Tinasha cocked her head, bemused. “No, nothing. Here, this is a present for you.”

She handed Oscar something. He rolled the object on his palm, inspecting it. It looked like a crystal sphere, but a scene was captured inside. A sky the same color as his eyes spanned the top half of the small globe. Oscar brought the orb up to his face to get a better look at it.

“It’s just a simple token of appreciation. The heavens were particularly beautiful today,” Tinasha explained.

“You made this?!” Oscar exclaimed.

“Yes.”

“It never fails to surprise me how many different interesting things you can do… Thank you,” he replied. After gingerly closing his palm around the bauble, he placed it on his nightstand. Tinasha perched lightly on the bed next to him.

As he tugged on her hair, he asked, “So, did something happen?”

“What? No, nothing. Why do you ask?”

“You seem a little down.”

“I’m fine,” Tinasha answered, smiling brightly, but she snaked her right hand behind her back. On reflex, Oscar caught hold of it.

Tinasha looked startled. “Wh-what?”

“You were just casting a spell, weren’t you? What was it?”

“…I’m not sure you’re actually human,” the witch muttered in disgust. Surrendering, she held up her caught limb. “It’s nothing. I just thought I’d try out some psychological magic.”

“I don’t really understand, but next time, just tell me before you try it.”

If this were Tinasha’s fellow witch Lucrezia, it would be some nasty prank. However, since it was Tinasha, Oscar trusted she had a better reason than that.

He sounded so easygoing about it that Tinasha gave a wan smile as she nodded. Maybe it was Oscar’s imagination, but her dark eyes looked more unreliable than usual.

Early during their time together, her gaze had occasionally betrayed a kind of loneliness—as if she were searching for something. After she diverted the magical lakes, that impatience had disappeared, only to be replaced by flashes of helpless anxiety. By nature, Tinasha was not someone who pursued selfish desires. Now that the witch’s goal in life was gone, it was like she was hanging in limbo.

Oscar traced his fingertips along her fair cheeks. He almost told her what he was thinking, but decided against voicing it out loud. Instead, Oscar brought his face close to hers. She closed her eyes and accepted his kiss, but when he pulled back, her cheeks were dusted with pink. “You shouldn’t do that sort of thing too often…”

“I’ll consider it,” Oscar replied, making it plain that he had no intention of following that suggestion.

Tinasha glowered at him, then lifted her arms up and stretched tall. “I-I’m worried…”

“About what?”

“A lot of things…like life.”

Oscar had been expecting that sort of response. With a straight face, he replied instantly, “I think you should marry me.”

“I’m not going to.”

“So stubborn…”

Tinasha threw her arms across her eyes. A sense of instability emanated from her petite frame, making her appear fragile.

Oscar stared at her. “You should marry me and quit being a witch.”

“What? Quit it how?” she pressed.

“Just get older normally, like you used to.” Oscar had planned to broach this subject with her at some point—to ask her if she wanted to live and die with him in this castle.

He was steady as a rock and deadly serious.

Tinasha, on the other hand, let her arms fall and stared back at him with wide, round eyes. “Get older…?”

Putting aside all the talk of marriage, even she had considered restoring her body’s aging. Physically she was roughly nineteen. Once she was no longer Oscar’s protector, she’d unfreeze time on herself, vacate her tower, and live out the rest of her days shut away from others. Ending things that way had a sort of appeal to it.

Oscar reached out and touched her cheek again. “You’ve got dozens of years left, right? That’s plenty. Give them to me.”

He looked so genuine that Tinasha wanted to burst out laughing. She thought to protest that she wasn’t the only stubborn one. “You really have strange taste in women.”

“Shut up. You’re very important to me. Don’t put yourself down,” Oscar said with a frown, and then he kissed her again.

With her eyes closed, she smiled wryly. “You’re quick to forget what I just said.”

“I only agreed to consider. If you don’t like this, just say so,” Oscar retorted bluntly.

Slowly, Tinasha opened her eyes, lashes fluttering. Before she truly considered what she was saying, the words had spilled from her lips. “I suppose it says something that I’ve gotten used to you touching me like this. I think you must be…special to me.”

Tinasha only stated the truth, but once she had admitted as much aloud, she felt the disclosure held a curious weight and honesty.

The witch had realized a long time ago that this stubborn, pigheaded man was someone important to her. It had caught her unawares. No matter who had asked her, she undoubtedly would have responded the same.

Looking up, Tinasha saw the shock on Oscar’s face.

She didn’t understand why he would look so surprised, and she reached out to brush the backs of her fingers along his cheek. “Is something the matter?”

“No…”

Oscar couldn’t give any more of an answer than that. He reached out and pulled Tinasha to him. She peeped up at him innocently, and he rained kisses down on her forehead, her cheeks, her lips.

Warmth flared in each place he touched.

Their souls connected, separated only by skin.

It was so precious and sad that they were not the same person.

Caught up in his arms, Tinasha was startled but reassured by this warmth at the same time. His body heat poured into her still-wavering heart.

It felt like he was spoiling her terribly.

And she didn’t want to drown in it.

Oscar’s gentle warmth gradually seeped down all the way to the bottom of her heart, glowing there. Mind-numbing heat slowly welled up within Tinasha.

His kisses landed on her ears, her neck, her chest.

If she let her mind wander, she’d give in completely. With a shaky exhalation, she managed, “Oscar… We can’t.”

“Why?” he asked, not looking up.

Every place he touched was a point of heat, spreading out all over Tinasha’s body. She didn’t know if she was holding herself up on her own. Feeling dizzy, she sagged limply in his arms. Oscar laid her down on the bed. She reached up as if to touch the blue eyes gazing down at her.

“‘Why’…? What do you mean, ‘Why?’ ” Tinasha questioned.

“Think about it yourself,” Oscar answered disinterestedly, but it was the truth.

Tinasha had to consider the answer on her own. There was nothing outside to look to. It would be within her.

She had lived for such a very long time. Not once had she loved or hated anyone.

It had seemed opening up to anyone would make her weak—that she wouldn’t be able to go on living.

I have to think about it.

Tinasha reached out, wanting something. Her fingertips grazed Oscar’s hair.

I have to think…

However, the sensation of his fingers and lips stole away her thoughts before they could take shape. She was falling headlong into the heat.

We still can’t…

The witch shook her head minutely, though she remained silent. She had no grasp on anything and was feeling faint.

Without understanding a thing, she was aware of giving herself over to him.

Every place Oscar touched on her forbidden snow-white skin was so smooth it could melt under his caress.

When he kissed her eyelids, she let out a hoarse moan. Each one of her little noises was thick with emotion. He wanted to cherish all of them—all of her.

She should learn that people can live out their days in peace without madly pursuing some overarching goal. She should live happily among other people, at his side.

He sat up and gazed at her. She looked back at him, her eyes flickering in the darkness. “Oscar…?”

Her voice sounded so low and seductive that he got chills. She reached out for him imploringly, and he caught her hand and pressed his lips to her palm. Her body, still hidden from his sight, was like passionate fire. Oscar dragged his fingers along her softest spots, burying his face in her neck—but just then, he heard scuffling outside his door.

Immediately, there was a violent banging.

“What is it…?”

Oscar saw that the impudent noise had brought the witch back to herself in an instant and felt like groaning. He wanted to grab her close, but she slid away like a cat and disappeared.

Cursing under his breath at how unlucky he was, Oscar headed for the door. He opened it to find Lazar there.

“You’re not allowed to complain even if I kill you…,” growled Oscar.

“Wh-what…? No, Your Majesty, we have a problem! Demonic spirits have gotten into the castle… Fire-breathing ones!”

“What the hell?!” Oscar cried with great displeasure, not entirely comprehending at first.

She automatically teleported herself back to her chamber.

In the dark room, Tinasha stared at her hands in shock. “I—I wasn’t acting right!”

She had been uncharacteristically hesitant. It was true that she felt anxious, although that didn’t explain it. And she hadn’t hated his touch.

The distinct sense that she was sinking deep into something had overcome the woman before she’d known what was occurring. Her mind and body had begun to dissolve.

Tinasha pressed her hands to her flushed cheeks—

“Huh?”

A strange sensation prickled at her, like a drop of blood in a vast sea.

Tinasha looked out the window and saw a crimson ribbon had cut its way across the night sky. Flames illuminated the ebon, and large shadows flitted about in the air. They were much larger than birds—undoubtedly some sort of demonic spirit.

“…The wards.”

Something had secretly opened a hole in the castle wards. That was the source of that strange sensation.

All at once, Tinasha changed. A witch’s composure replaced her girlish insecurity.

A scowl marred her beautiful features as she readjusted her disheveled bodice and lifted off the ground to teleport away.

It shouldn’t ordinarily have been possible for demonic spirits to invade Farsas Castle because of the wards enacted by the king’s protector, the witch. The only thing that had ever penetrated the protective spells was the demonic beast during the war seventy years ago. Thus this sudden attack threw the place into chaos.

In the cloudless skies above the castle, six-foot-tall creatures were flying all around.

At a glance, there appeared to be fifty demonic spirits with thin, humanoid forms, pure-black skin, and bat wings. They swooped down, broke through windows, and raked their sharp claws at anyone they happened upon. The soldiers stationed in the gardens were firing determined shots back at them, but there were already casualties. One fighter was running along a corridor when a set of talons dived out of the darkness and caught his arm.

In the next moment, the limb was ripped off at the root. Blood spurted, and the poor man fell to the floor, causing the nearby lady-in-waiting to let out a terrible shriek.

“AAAAHHHH!”

However, when she fled out into the gardens, another demonic spirit set its sights on her and dived down.

Faintly glinting talons sought her flesh, but the spirit’s body was cleaved in two by the stroke of a sword before that came to pass.

It was Als. “Form groups of at least three!” he called to his officers. “Don’t leave any blind spots! If you can’t fight, don’t go outside!”

Though it was night, bright-red splotches lit up the sky.

Als had already heard reports that the glow was coming from fires at the rear of the castle. It was near impossible to deal with the flames while also battling demonic spirits, but mages were headed to extinguish the blaze.

Right now, the priority was to eliminate incursive force.

Just then, another woman’s scream sounded from the direction of the castle gate.

Als looked and saw a lady-in-waiting with a thick cloth around her head cowering behind a guard, who had his sword out to defend her. Als hurriedly drew a dagger and expertly hurled it at the spirit attacking them.

Norman was organizing the records vault late into the night when he heard an odd commotion outside and looked up. Puzzled, he took up a lamp and opened the vault door.

The sky was scarlet. Flames illuminated the skies as the shadows of multiple demonic spirits swooped and dived.

“What in the world?!” he shouted reflexively, attracting the attention of two demonic spirits flying nearby. They changed direction and headed for him. Their eyes glinted red, locking him in place.

I have to get inside and shut the door.

He knew that, but his legs wouldn’t move. It was like his body wasn’t his own.

As he stood frozen in place, a set of alabaster claws bore down on him.

Norman swallowed and prepared to meet death.

Much to his surprise, however, he was not to die today.

An overwhelming force crushed the demonic spirit’s body. A witch dressed in black alighted from behind.

She lifted an ivory hand toward the other demonic spirit. “Get out of my sight.”

Her words were powerful. The creature’s form scattered without a sound. Norman gaped in astonishment as it turned to dust and vanished. He was having trouble comprehending exactly what was happening.

The witch turned to him. “Are you hurt?”

“…Ah, no… I’m fine.”

“Then get inside. Don’t come out until it’s over.”

Her cool voice carried a naturally commanding presence. In her dark gaze was unquestionable power. A strong force of will and an unwavering authority dwelled there. Norman’s king possessed the same qualities. For the first time, Norman understood that this witch was a queen.

Concealing his surprise, he bowed his head to her of his own volition. “Please fight well…and take care of His Majesty.”

She nodded and disappeared. Norman retreated into the records vault and prayed for the safety of the castle.

Tinasha sensed that about a hundred demonic spirits had somehow slipped past her wards.

This was a demonic invasion on an unprecedented scale. Any typical keep would’ve been razed to the ground.

More than the enemy’s numbers, Tinasha was concerned with how they had been sent through her magical defenses.

“If I take too long, they’re likely to escape…”

Floating in the skies above the castle, Tinasha reached out, searching among the many demonic auras for the summoner responsible.

Several spirits noticed her and flew for her with strange cries. She narrowed her eyes and held her right hand out before her. A brilliantly glowing ball of light formed in her palm before lancing forward.

The brilliant burst morphed into a spray, dousing and dispelling the creatures that had swarmed her. Tinasha immediately shouted, “Senn! Karr! Mila! Nil! Kunai! Come!”

Five mystical spirits materialized in the air in response to her order. Tinasha gave them a succinct command. “Kill the demonic spirits. No exceptions. Go.”

Each of the five gave their assent and disappeared. Wasting no time, the witch began an incantation.

“Recognize my will as law, transformer that sleeps in the earth and flies in the sky. I control your water and summon you. Know my command to be every concept of your manifestation.”

Moisture from the air gathered and froze in Tinasha’s right hand. She brought her left hand over it, refining the spell configuration further. In a flash, the water had assumed the shape of countless droplets. It looked like a rainstorm collected in her palm, and Tinasha flung it at the blazing outbuildings at the rear of the castle. She sped through the sky in hot pursuit of the summoner.

The mage Doan, tasked with firefighting, was growing worried at the seemingly unending blaze as he hurled spells to destroy any demonic spirits that came attacking. The fire showed no signs of dying out, likely because it was magical in nature. The tip of the flames writhed like a tongue, climbing up in an unnatural way.

“This is bad… If it keeps up, it could spread to the castle.”

The attack was a curious one. Doan had been pondering it for a while now. An enemy who could launch an offense of this magnitude on the castle must not know about Tinasha. If they had, wouldn’t they have factored the witch into their strategy?

In that case, Doan didn’t know where the enemy would get tripped up. He and his fellows needed to have the full picture as soon as possible.

Sadly, they’d failed to put out a single fire yet.

Just as Doan was considering having all the mages unite to cast one large spell, a heavy shower began to fall. The droplets doused the fires and set up a barrier to contain them. Red flames flickered within the thin, filmy seal.

“This is…Miss Tinasha’s doing. She’s saved us.”

With the witch’s barrier, they didn’t need to worry about the blaze spreading. Breathing a sigh of relief, Doan began to weave another fire-dousing spell.

Oscar and General Granfort entered the courtyard and made their way to the castle gate, the former cutting down every demonic spirit that even drew close. Lazar had given orders for everyone in the castle to evacuate. Right now, all Oscar needed to do was clean up the invaders.

By the time he had slain twelve of the things, he and General Granfort had at last reached the gate. Just ahead, Als and his officers were fighting a tough battle in the plaza.

Als noticed Oscar and called out, “Your Majesty! You’re all right!”

“What the hell is all this…?” grumbled Oscar, stabbing Akashia into a demonic spirit that came winging down from the sky. It had been making to cut off Oscar’s head, and he plunged his weapon into its throat with tremendous force.

The demonic spirit fell to the ground, still clutching Akashia as it died. Annoyed, Oscar made to pull out the royal sword. That was when another demonic spirit seized its chance to attack.

“Whoa there.”

He dodged to the right as sharp claws came for him, then used his left hand to grab hold of the spirit’s leg. With a move that looked effortless but was packed with fearsome strength, he slammed the spirit to the ground. As it groaned on the hard ground, Oscar pulled out Akashia and used it to decapitate the spirit.

While he was doing that, Als came running up. “Your Majesty.”

“I’m fine,” Oscar replied, looking up at the sky. There were far fewer demonic spirits than there had been at the beginning. It looked like they were fighting against something in the sky. The bat-winged things were clearly losing the struggle. Granfort approached the king and pointed at a small-statured figure floating in the night sky. “What’s that up there?”

“Those are…Tinasha’s spirits.”

A girl with hair of deep crimson was laughing with glee as she loosed magic attacks. All the mystical spirits commanded by the witch were high-ranking demons. Oscar took in the sight of the girl and the few others that Tinasha had called upon, relaxing a little. “If she’s released her spirits, then it’s only a matter of time. Als, see to the wounded.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” said Als.

After making sure no demonic spirits were coming for him, Oscar returned Akashia to its sheath. The ground was littered with dead spirits, and it seemed the invasion was coming to an end. Mages came running in and began treating the wounded.

As they did, Oscar called over several officers and ordered them to go assess the situation. No sooner had they hurried off at his command than the witch appeared overhead. She slowly descended until she was floating before him.

“Tinasha, how’s it going?” Oscar inquired.

“The fire appears to be out. I went after the summoner, but they did a good job concealing their tracks. I’m sorry,” she apologized.

“They must have some skill to give you the slip.”

“I’m so ashamed…,” Tinasha admitted, hanging her head guiltily.

Oscar winced. “In any case, we’ve got cleanup to do. Sorry, but could you help out?”

“Sure,” the witch replied, landing on the ground and hurrying over to the wounded. As he watched her go, Oscar felt reassured by how normal she looked. She hadn’t come to him during the fighting, and Oscar had worried that he’d pushed things too far. However, now that she was back before him, he knew they could work something out later.

“Man, this is one tough opponent we’re up against. Did they throw things into a panic only to run off?” he murmured.

As demonic spirits were involved, the enemy had to be a powerful mage, but their goal remained unknown. Oscar surveyed the dead demonic spirit bodies scattered about.

Fortunately, there were not many casualties. Soldiers carried over a few of their wounded fellows. With them came the lady-in-waiting whose head was wrapped in thick cloth. She looked terribly worried. As the group passed by the king on their way inside the castle to take refuge, the lady-in-waiting stumbled a bit. Oscar reached out to steady her.

The cloth on her head fell to the ground. Her gaze was so intense it all but threatened to pierce Oscar through.

He recognized her—this was someone who shouldn’t be here.

“You’re…”

Just before he could say her name, he felt a light jolt of pain on the hand he’d caught her with. He jerked back instinctively, and the pain turned sharp and acute.

She let out a loud cackle of delight. Her bizarre laugh caught the attention of Als and Tinasha, who turned to look.

“Clara?!” cried Tinasha.

The madwoman’s eyes locked on to the witch, and she gave her a scornful smirk.

Tinasha caught sight of the man collapsed next to her and cried out, “OSCAR!”

The witch’s scream tore through the night. Tinasha dashed across the grass. Without sparing a glance at the gleeful madwoman, she flew to Oscar’s side. “Why…?”

Nothing had come into contact with the protective barrier she had placed on the king, and yet he had fainted—was this psychological magic or something similar to it? Tinasha touched him and poured magic into his unconscious body. She could tell his body temperature was dropping fast. His pulse was weak, and he was losing color. It was obvious that if this went on, he would die.

And yet—Tinasha couldn’t locate any traces of magic in his body.

“This shouldn’t…”

Tinasha shook her head. Panic made breathing difficult for her. She was flustered half out of her mind, but she looked up as that high, shrill laugh resounded again.

Clara, who should have been banished from the country after her involvement with the song that had killed people, was now dressed as a lady-in-waiting. Elation clear, she murmured to the witch, “How about you follow him into death, hmm?”

The woman held out an object to show it to Tinasha. It was a long silver needle. Half of it was discolored and black; Tinasha was speechless. Dropping her gaze back down to Oscar, she realized that his left hand had turned the same color.

“…A natural poison.”

That was why there were no traces of magic. It was a naturally occurring toxin, not something created by spells.

Because the poison was challenging to produce and obtain, it was very rarely used nowadays—and most magic couldn’t neutralize its effects.

Black spots swam before Tinasha’s eyes. By the time the witch was lucid again, she was already casting a spell. She grasped Oscar’s discolored hand in one of her own and thrust her other on his forehead.

“Recognize my will as law, transformer that is the axis on which the world turns. I reject you. You will stay where you are. I will not allow you to leave. I reject you. Reject you. Reject you—”

Sweat beaded on Tinasha’s forehead. She repeated the words like a prayer. As the spell took shape, it abruptly slowed the passage of time in Oscar’s body. But that wouldn’t restore the life draining from him. All she could do now was bring him to a standstill.

“I reject you, reject you…”

Als came running over, quickly shackling Clara, who was still grinning maniacally.

Tinasha continued to chant, desperation bleeding into her voice.

Considering the strangeness of the attack and its scope, the damage was relatively insignificant. While many were wounded, fewer than ten were dead, and only the wooden outbuildings had burned down. Any other keep would have suffered far worse.

But that wasn’t the true extent of the losses.

Kevin, the former king, heard the news and rushed to his son’s bedroom in a panic. Because of the late hour, there were only a few royal council members, some officers involved in suppressing the attack, and a handful of mages in the room.

The room’s occupant was laid out on the bed. Next to him knelt the witch. Her eyes were closed as she clutched his hand and held her forehead pressed to the back of it, as motionless as a doll. The man lying on the bed was just as still.

Gingerly, Kevin made his way over to the two of them and examined his son. His body was pale, and Kevin couldn’t sense the life-sustaining heartbeat that should be there.

“What happened…?”

The witch looked up. Her eyes were filled with a hollow light. “His body is in a state of suspended animation. I had no other way to keep him going…”

“So is he alive?” the former king asked.

“He is, but he’s been poisoned. If I return time to normal for him, he’ll die within minutes.”

Kevin was taken aback by the news, and Als filled him in on the rest. A woman who had been banished from Farsas had gotten some sort of help to infiltrate the castle, and she had used a needle to exploit a weakness in Oscar’s magical barrier and poison him.

“What of the woman?” Kevin asked.

“Imprisoned, but she’s already lost her mind…,” Als answered.

Kevin nodded and faced the witch again. “Can you neutralize the poison?”

Tinasha met Kevin’s eyes, her own looking close to tears. It was the first time anyone in the room had ever seen her like that, and the gravity of the situation struck them all anew.

“About this poison… I studied the bit on the needle. It’s a natural toxin called alkakia. No antidote exists. It exists only to kill,” the witch explained.

Kevin was left speechless.

The alkakia flower had reddish-brown petals. The poison of the same name was extracted from those petals.

It was a notoriously deadly substance that had been in use since the Dark Age. None had survived it.

Once he understood the situation, the former king asked, “So is he going to be asleep forever?”

“I can’t maintain this state indefinitely. While time is slowed for him, it’s not stopped completely. At some point, the poison will overtake him,” the witch explained, biting her red lip so hard it bled.

Kevin was struck silent. All he could do was gaze at his son’s pale face. “Rosalia…”

The name of his late wife fell from his lips.

Tinasha shut her eyes again. She gripped Oscar’s hand tight.

Though he was so close, he had never seemed more distant from her. Tinasha had so many things to consider, but she couldn’t focus on any of them.

Desperately, she wished for some inkling of how to proceed.

She looked up. A distortion formed in the center of the room.

A moment later, the Witch of the Forbidden Forest was standing there. Irritated, she cried, “Having Senn retrieve me was a dirty trick!”

“I’m sorry,” Tinasha apologized.

Picking up on an odd note in her friend’s voice, Lucrezia looked around the room. She took in the grave mood and everyone’s somber expression before her eyes finally landed on her friend and the man asleep in bed. Lucrezia stepped over to them and examined Oscar’s face. “What is this…? You’ve put him in suspended animation?”

“Yes.”

Lucrezia’s attention shifted to Oscar’s left hand, which Tinasha was holding. She noticed his ominously inflamed palm and scowled. “Alkakia?”

“Yes,” Tinasha affirmed, which made Lucrezia scowl even more.

“It’s hopeless. What do you hope to achieve by stopping time for him?”

This was coming from a witch who took pride in her outstanding potion-making techniques. Shock rippled through the room at her heartless statement. All stared at their king, who was facing unavoidable doom.

However, Tinasha replied blankly, “Don’t make it sound hopeless. I’m going to do something about it.”

Her response was stubborn. Lucrezia glared at her, annoyed. “How?”

“I’m going to make a blood serum.”

The answer was enough to take even Lucrezia by surprise.

There was no blood serum for alkakia.

That was common knowledge to anyone who knew the dark history of the mainland. The oil that could be extracted from the alkakia flower had been feared for hundreds of years as a deadly, incurable poison. The toxin was one of the reasons people said things like, You can’t turn back history.

The Witch of the Forbidden Forest frowned. “What? That poison is synonymous with death. How are you going to make a blood serum?”

“With my body. Time is stopped for me, and I have plenty of magic. I can hold the poison off for a full day. In that time, I’ll use magic to create antibodies.”

The royal protector’s declaration stunned all present. They stared at her with an array of different expressions. A tiny bit of hope began to bloom within the room.

Lucrezia’s response was markedly disparate, though. Her beautiful features transformed into a mask of rage. She sucked in a deep breath, then let loose in a shout that shook the chamber.

“Are you completely out of your mind?! It’s not a magic potion! Even if you can make the serum, you’ll die! You’ll be in too much pain to use magic! And if you numb the pain, your senses will be dulled…”

Her roar was deafening. Everyone except Tinasha stiffened in the face of Lucrezia’s fury. They blanched as they realized how dangerous Tinasha’s plan was.

Yet the witch herself wasn’t fazed at all. “That’s why I’m asking for your help. Also, I’m good at withstanding pain,” she said indifferently, then looked up. A keen light glinted from within the abyss in her eyes.

Lucrezia caught sight of it and flinched. “I don’t want to.”

“Please…”

“No! What’s wrong with you? Are you stupid? This is insane! Stop it right now, find another man!” Lucrezia cried.

“Please,” Tinasha repeated, showing no signs of backing down.

Open irritation flashed across Lucrezia’s face again. She took firm hold of Tinasha’s shoulders. Anger seethed in her amber eyes as she glared at the other woman.

Witch and witch stared at each other.

It was a battle of wills. Emotions that were much too overpowering passed between them.

Finally, Lucrezia asked softly, “Is this man worth risking your life?”

“He is,” Tinasha answered at once.

Her mind held nothing but confidence.

And the Witch of the Azure Moon gave a slightly pained smile.

Lucrezia let out a long sigh.

She looked up and gazed out once more around the room. Pointing at Sylvia and Pamyra, she commanded, “You two, help us out.”

They nodded right away and dashed over. Two other mages, Renart and Kav, raised their hands.

“I’ll help, too,” said Kav.

“So will I,” said Renart.

“No men,” Lucrezia stated flatly, and their eyes widened.

Tinasha got to her feet, wincing. “It’ll be all right. Just trust us.” She looked back at the bed and stroked Oscar’s cheek. After gazing at him fondly, she pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Glancing over at the bedside table, she saw the crystal globe she’d given him glittering the same color as his eyes, which were now closed to the world.

The group of lady mages moved to Tinasha’s chambers, where she stripped off all her clothes.

Fully nude, she placed a chair in the center of the room and sat down on it. As she did, Lucrezia drew a magic circle on the floor surrounding it. Sylvia and Pamyra stood on opposite sides of the intricately designed array.

“This is an entirely new undertaking, so I don’t know how long it will take. You might die before it’s done,” cautioned Lucrezia.

“Yes, because I don’t have any physical endurance. I do have an overabundance of magic, though,” Tinasha replied, so blithely that the blood drained from Pamyra’s face. The only reason she didn’t try to stop her lady there was that Oscar’s life hung in the balance.

Tinasha let out a deep sigh. She was nervous. Whether or not she could save him, this would be a turning point.

Curiously, her mood was strangely calm. Maybe this was how all her challengers felt when they came to her tower.

“It was quite arrogant of me to declare it to be a tower of trials that could grant wishes…,” she murmured.

Many people believed that nothing was impossible for the strongest witch in all the land. But beneath the surface, it was all she could do to offer her life to save one man.

Desperately, fumblingly, just like any other human would.

Yet she didn’t mind.

Now Tinasha had become a challenger. She was tackling fate head-on.

Tinasha looked down at her own body and gave a wan smile. “If I knew this was going to happen, I would have worked out more.”

“Some difference in muscle tone wouldn’t have made a difference. The most important thing is that you don’t lose your presence of mind. I’ve placed a barrier, but if your magic starts going wild, we’ll have a difficult time handling things,” said Lucrezia.

“I will bear that in mind,” Tinasha replied.

With preparations complete, Lucrezia came to stand in front of Tinasha, holding the bottle containing the alkakia-poisoned needle. She frowned as she looked at Tinasha’s alabaster skin, pointing to a red mark on her neck. “What is that?”

“Huh?” Tinasha asked, unable to see what her friend was referring to because it was in a blind spot.

Lucrezia eyed her friend with exasperation. “Well, whatever…”

Tinasha exhaled, then recited a short incantation. She anchored herself to the chair so she wouldn’t move despite the pain. Once it was over, she looked up at Lucrezia. “If I die, complete the spell for me.”

“Okay.”

“And also erase all his memories of me.”

“I will not. If you die, I’m going to make him live with that knowledge for the rest of his days,” Lucrezia answered tartly, and Tinasha winced. Her long eyelashes fluttered, and her thoughts drifted.

How did Tinasha know that she would survive this ordeal? What proof did she have that assured her this wouldn’t kill her?

The witch wasn’t looking for a place to die. She didn’t want Oscar to be the reason she perished.

Thus, it had to be all right.

She wouldn’t die.

Tinasha let out a long, deep breath.

Sound faded away.

Her consciousness was growing keen.

It had been like this when she faced off against Lanak, too. She knew she was strong in situations like this.

Hesitation was gone; now there was only unerring confidence.

“Please begin,” Tinasha stated, smiling and closing her eyes.

By force of will, she was attempting to override reality.

She had just enough power to reject fate.

And so the two witches’ trial began.

Reaching and reaching, but unable to get to the other person right away.

So you decide to shorten the distance by half.

Then by another half.

Slowly, but powered by a strong yearning, getting closer and closer.

Inching ever nearer, trying to close the stubborn distance between you two to nothing at all.

Mourning that that distance won’t budge no matter how you want it to.

Perhaps this was what people called love.

When Oscar awoke, he found he was lying in bed, getting stared at by quite a lot of people.

Baffled, Oscar moved to sit up, and a dull ache flared in his left hand.

However, when he looked at it, there was no injury or mark there. Lazar hurried over and placed an arm around him. “Your Majesty, please don’t push yourself.”

“What is going on? What happened?” inquired Oscar.

“You’ve been very ill. We were all so worried,” answered Lazar.

At that, Oscar looked around the room. True to what Lazar said, all present looked upon him with deep concern. Sylvia stood closest to the door; her eyes seemed to be red and puffy from crying. Noticing as much, Oscar frowned. “Was it really that bad? I don’t remember anything…”

As he spoke, he realized that the one person who should be by his side was absent. Yet he didn’t know who that was. He covered his face with one hand. “My mind’s kind of a jumble.”

“That’s because you’ve just woken up,” responded Lazar.

Oscar tried to recall the vivid dream he’d been having, but it hovered frustratingly out of reach.

He shook his head lightly. It didn’t look like he’d be able to recover his lost memories. Lazar knelt down and examined him. “Would you like anything to eat? Or will you go back to sleep for a bit?”

“Well, I have work to do,” stated Oscar.

“Your father is taking care of that.”

“He is? That’s rare,” said Oscar. Just how sick had he been if his father, who typically never left the castle’s rear wing, was taking over his duties?

Oscar racked his brain, but he couldn’t remember anything from before he’d fallen asleep. There was only persistent, bone-deep fatigue. “Then I guess I’ll get some more rest… Sorry.”

“Please do. We’ll leave you alone… If you need anything, just call for me,” replied Lazar, bowing as he took his leave.

Oscar lay back down, but perhaps because he’d been out for so long, he couldn’t fall back asleep. He was more bothered about his missing memories, and in the end, he sat back up in bed. “What happened…?”

He knew who he was, and who Lazar, his father, and his inner circle of advisers and attendants were.

The country of Farsas had a long and storied history; its royal sword Akashia was passed down through generations of rulers. Born the crown prince of this nation, Oscar had been cursed as a child by the Witch of Silence. But he conquered the tower of the Witch of the Azure Moon and had her break the curse. After that, there was a war with the newly emerged nation of Cuscull, yet Oscar had succeeded to the throne with no significant problems. He wasn’t unhappy, nor were there any prominent unsolved problems. Of course, the young man frequently felt stifled under the weight of his duties, but that was his natural burden to bear. He couldn’t share it with anyone else, and he was prepared to live out his life this way.

And yet he felt that on a personal level—he’d lost something vital.

A fuzzy sense of unease had gripped him since he’d awoken. He looked all around, trying to unearth what it might be.

Oscar’s gaze landed on a small glass ball that had been placed on his bedside table at some point. For some mysterious reason, it was colored blue, and its purpose was unknown to him. A twilit sky was sealed away inside it. “What’s this…?”

As he wondered when he’d acquired such a thing, Oscar got out of bed.

When he departed from his room, the guards stationed outside his door gaped at him with shock. “Your Majesty, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just going to go for a walk around the castle. I’m fine on my own,” Oscar stated, but the guards eyed him with concern. Their king was still recovering, after all. Yet if he said he didn’t need an escort, then they couldn’t press the matter.

Oscar left them and paced down the hall on his own.

He knew this castle like the back of his hand, but it felt strangely empty and gloomy. For some reason, the blue sky beyond the windows seemed too clear. Rolling the crystal ball around in his hand, Oscar made his way down the deserted corridor.

His memories remained elusive. They were right there, but he couldn’t reach them.

As that continued to nag at him, he caught sight of someone at the end of the hall and slowed his pace.

It was Norman the magistrate with a pile of papers in his arms. His eyes widened a little as he noticed his king, and then he bowed, taking care not to bump into the corner of the hallway. Oscar nodded to him and moved to pass him by…but then suddenly asked, “Norman, do you know what happened before I fell asleep?”

“Ah?” replied Norman in confusion, and Oscar snapped back to himself. Norman was someone who had worked in the castle a long time, sure, but why had Oscar asked him that? Why did he feel like Lazar and the others were lying to him?

“Never mind, it’s nothing,” dismissed Oscar, shaking his head and starting to walk off.

Behind him, he heard Norman calmly inquire, “Your Majesty, have you decided on a queen yet?”

“A queen?”

Why was he asking that now? Oscar turned back around.

Norman looked very serious as he continued. “It’s time for you to be thinking about your heir. You should pick out someone who meets the requirements.”

“What requirements…?”

Oscar’s head was starting to throb. The hole in his heart ached. The crystal globe in his hand felt warm.

He rubbed at his temples.

Not once had he thought about choosing a queen.

His curse had robbed him of that choice, and after the curse had been broken…he hadn’t thought about it then, either.

Oscar hadn’t forgotten about getting married. To do as much was his duty, of course.

He just simply hadn’t considered at all whom he would decide on.

“…Tinasha.”

The name slipped out naturally, stunning Oscar.

Why had he forgotten about her?

The most beloved and irreplaceable woman in his life. He wanted her with him even if he had to defy those around him.

“Oscar, don’t be reckless.”

The king looked back, feeling as if he’d heard her gentle voice. But no one was there.

A beautiful, emotional, and lonely witch.

When she was nearby, all the oppressive feelings that clung to him disappeared. No matter where he was, he could even manage to enjoy the burdens laid on his shoulders. She had the power to do that quite naturally, her spirit setting him free.

Oscar pushed his bangs away from his sweaty forehead. “How could I fail to recall her…?”

“If you’ve decided on a queen, then I am extremely delighted. However, please do not push yourself. While your treatment may be over, you are still not fully recovered,” cautioned Norman before bowing and taking his leave.

Left alone once more, Oscar held the crystal globe up before his eyes. Tinasha had used magic to create the bright night sky contained within. She’d still been with him back then.

“…Ngh.”

Oscar’s left hand suddenly twinged with pain, and he tightened his hold on the crystal. He remembered this pain. The veil over his memories suddenly blew off.

And when all the recollections that had been sealed came surging back, Oscar at last understood what was so distinctly wrong with this situation.

The king ran through the castle until he reached the witch’s chamber. There was a barrier up around the door. Invisible magic charmed the entrance, concealing it.

Why was the room hidden? The mysteries were piling up. Oscar could only conclude that someone in the castle was trying to erase all traces of Tinasha from his mind. Thinking about why only led him to envision nightmare scenarios, so he shook off those thoughts and faced the barrier.

He’d left Akashia, which could easily dispel the ensorcelled door, in his room. However, he didn’t want to waste time going back to get it. He stared at the finely wrought spell configuration and reached out for its vital point.

I can break this, he thought confidently.

Yet just before he could touch the bit of magic, the barrier disappeared, and the door became visible.

He pushed it open and went inside to find the Witch of the Forbidden Forest glaring at him, arms crossed in displeasure. “And here I tampered with your memories so you wouldn’t come looking like this. What do you think you’re doing? And you’re trying to undo my barrier to boot! Have some self-awareness.”

“Where’s Tinasha?”

Lucrezia let out an intentionally loud sigh. She jerked her chin toward a spot farther in. There was his witch, lying on the bed and completely still.

As Oscar made his way toward her, he realized how terribly nervous he was.

He was afraid to ask—afraid to look—but he had to know.

He came up to the head of the bed and stared at Tinasha’s face. Her ordinarily fair complexion now had a terrible pallor. Fearfully, he reached out and touched her cheek. Her smooth skin was slightly chilly.

“Is she alive?”

“I wouldn’t have put her there if she were dead,” Lucrezia retorted acidly, which relieved Oscar so much he felt like he could collapse.

The witch went on, sounding even more perturbed. “And here I thought she’d calm down if she got herself a man, so I encouraged her to get one, and look where it’s got us. Things have only gotten worse. Why is she hovering on the edge of death? There are limits to how careless you can be with your own life. It’s really beyond the pale. I’m not at all happy about this.”

“Sorry,” Oscar apologized without taking his eyes off Tinasha.

He should take responsibility for his own leniency.

In his naïveté, he’d spared Clara’s life. He hadn’t wanted to put her death on the witch.

But in the end, that decision had come back to bite not just him but Tinasha as well. This was entirely his fault.

Oscar ran his fingers through her onyx locks, which had lost a little of their luster. This was now the third time he’d stood next to her as she lay unconscious. The first had been after her battle with the demonic beast. The second had been after the war over the magical lakes. In each instance, he’d fretted over her while waiting for her to stir.

Despite her power being unrivaled, Tinasha always put herself last and took severe risks. She acted with complete disregard for her own interests, which was exactly why Oscar wanted to be the one to protect her.

Unfortunately, he’d made a mistake this time. He didn’t know the details of what had happened, but it was readily apparent from Lucrezia’s attitude that he was the reason Tinasha was lying unconscious now.

Deep regret crossed his face as he stroked her skin, seeking to reassure himself. He ran his fingers along the slim column of her neck—and noticed something strange.

Just below where the white blanket covered her, her smooth skin had turned a faint brown color.

Oscar hesitated a little, but grabbed hold of the bedcovers. From behind, he heard a quelling voice say, “Stop it.”

“I want to know.”

“No woman wants that to be seen. Stop it.”

“But these…are injuries I caused, aren’t they?”

Lucrezia didn’t answer. Taking that as permission, Oscar pulled down the blanket.

Underneath, she was completely naked. He inhaled sharply.

What caught his eye wasn’t her body, but the welts and blisters covering almost every inch of it.

Tinasha’s bewitchingly glossy white skin was virtually unrecognizable with discoloration. All over, patches of skin had hardened into rough blotches.

It looked just like she’d been badly burned and scarred. Oscar was left speechless at the horrifying sight.

Lucrezia cut in bitterly, “The alkakia ravaged her entire body. It’s astonishing that she survived at all. I thought the pain would be so unbearable that she wouldn’t be able to maintain her sanity, but she managed to keep reciting the spell until the end.”

“…Can you help her?” asked Oscar.

“I’m going to treat it once her magic has stabilized a bit more. I can’t just yet. The backlash of using her body to create the blood serum has left her magic an utter mess,” Lucrezia explained, which put the king’s mind at ease, if only slightly. Gently, Oscar touched the inflamed skin around Tinasha’s chest.

It felt gritty and coarse. Oscar’s heart sank. However, it also filled him with incomparable fondness. Conflicting emotions swam through him. Heat swelled in his breast, nearly bringing him to tears.

If Oscar said any of this out loud, he knew Lucrezia would slap him. This was despicable; he knew that.

Still, he felt like this was proof of Tinasha’s attachment to him, the evidence he’d long been hoping for. Simultaneously he felt burning regret and dizzying contentment.