~Chapter 33~
“…Yes.”
Lloyd reluctantly returned Amelie’s greeting. Ignoring his attitude, Amelie spoke.
“I’ll tell you why it was noisy earlier. The group of assassins you helped got caught and brought in.”
“…!”
They were skilled, or so he thought, but they’d been caught already? Lloyd’s eyes widened. Seeing that, Amelie smirked.
“I was just testing you, but I guess you really did help them?”
“N-no…”
Flustered, Lloyd stammered. But Amelie had already heard plenty from Leon.
“Even testimony alone is enough… but for you, this must be humiliating.”
After rummaging in her pocket, Amelie held out a gray potion.
“Drink.”
“I refuse…!”
“Are you in a position to refuse me right now?”
“…”
Lloyd closed his mouth. The gray potion swished in the bottle in front of him, an unspoken order to hurry up and drink it.
In the end, he quietly took the potion and drank it. His face twisted in disgust at having to drink a witch’s potion, something he despised so much.
“Stop frowning.”
“…Can’t I even make my own expressions now?”
It was a petty rebellion. Amelie immediately pulled another potion from her pocket and threw it to the ground.
Fwoosh—
“Ahhh!”
Flames shot up instantly. Shocked, Lloyd fell backward. Amelie stepped closer to the bars.
“Do I look easy to you?”
“N-no…”
Lloyd groaned and stepped back, but no matter how far he moved, he couldn’t escape those bright red eyes.
Amelie’s face hardened as she pulled out a water bottle and put out the flames. When the light disappeared, her face grew darker, her eyes shining even brighter in the shadow.
“Take a good look at yourself. See if you even have the right to judge me.”
It was true. Lloyd had almost no qualities better than hers.
“What makes you hate witches so much?”
“B-because you’re a witch…!”
The potion had worked—what she had given him earlier was a truth potion. Realizing he’d just spoken his honest feelings, Lloyd quickly covered his mouth with both hands.
Amelie, on the other hand, looked completely disappointed.
“Just because I’m a witch. So you have no real reason.”
“…”
“Well, whatever… I wasn’t expecting a great answer.”
Amelie, looking suddenly tired, brushed her hair back.
“What exactly did you tell the assassins?”
“I told them your destination… and when I heard the knight had a younger brother, I said to kill the knight and use the brother.”
“How did you know my destination?”
“I guessed… since you couldn’t use your pot anymore, you’d go buy a new one…”
Amelie’s sharp gaze hit him. She grabbed the bars instead of his collar and shouted.
“You call that an answer?! If your guess had been wrong and the assassins went somewhere else, what do you think would have happened? A kid with nothing to do with me would’ve died before I could even act—all because of you!”
“Eeek…!”
Startled by her scolding, Lloyd stumbled back until his back hit the prison wall.
Grinding her teeth at his pitiful behavior, Amelie stepped away. She had no more business with him.
“Your sentence will be decided the day after tomorrow. I’ve prepared a punishment just for you.”
“A… custom punishment…?”
Lloyd looked confused. Turning her head, Amelie smirked.
“Yes. You can look forward to it.”
Leaving those words behind, she turned to go. Her steps up the stairs felt heavy.
“So that’s how they found out where I was…”
She couldn’t hide her shock at Lloyd’s confession. It was lucky his guess had been right—if the assassins had gone somewhere else…
“Because of me, another child…”
Her expression grew heavy.
Maybe because she wasn’t feeling well, her thoughts began to go in strange directions.
Witch-haters claimed that anyone involved with witches would meet misfortune.
If, as she imagined, an innocent child had been mistaken for Gio and killed, wouldn’t that mean the child became unhappy because of her, a witch?
Amelie murmured with slumped shoulders,
“I hate thinking like this…”
“What kind of thinking is that?”
“!”
The now-familiar voice made Amelie’s head snap up.
A tall silhouette blocked the underground prison entrance. A soft glow lit Christan’s ash-gray hair.
“Your Grace!”
Brightening instantly, she hurried up the stairs. Christan’s handsome face was suddenly close. Smiling faintly, he said,
“You recover your energy quickly. Just a moment ago, you looked completely down.”
“Huh? Oh… I guess so.”
She couldn’t bring herself to say, It’s because I saw you, Your Grace. She just gave him a casual smile.
“I’m fine. I guess I was just tired.”
“Hmmm…”
Christan narrowed his eyes. It seemed he wouldn’t be fooled by a clumsy excuse.
He placed a large hand on her head.
“You’re always so lively, full of energy… but now your face looks gloomy.”
“Uh…”
Amelie blinked in surprise. Did her face really look gloomy?
“Is something wrong?”
His face was filled with concern. She couldn’t look away from him. Her heart was beating at a strange rhythm.
‘Why am I like this?’
It wasn’t the first time he’d worried about her.
But somehow, this time, it felt different—maybe because she was in a low mood.
“…Yes.”
Without meaning to, Amelie began speaking.
“Have you ever heard people say witches bring misfortune?”
“What?”
“Gio was targeted on purpose. That guy told the assassins to go after him. If the assassins had mistaken another child for Gio, that child would have been killed.”
“…You.”
Even when Christan called her, Amelie muttered gloomily.
“I always knew it was nonsense, but when things like this happen, I start doubting myself. What if witches really do bring misfortune, and I just won’t admit it…”
Her voice trailed off, but the meaning was heavy.
Christan frowned as he listened, then said bluntly,
“This makes me hate the world.”
“…Huh?”
“I hate the world for making you think such nonsense.”
Amelie’s mouth fell open. Christan was a hero of the Empire, yet these pessimistic words didn’t seem to fit him.
As she struggled to respond, he added,
“And I’ve only had good things happen since I met you. It’s not like some curse of misfortune would just skip me.”
Their eyes met. Seeing the look in his eyes, Amelie’s gaze trembled. How could he look at her with such comforting eyes without even liking her?
“I don’t know if this will help, but I wish you wouldn’t waste your thoughts on things like that. This is a time you should be enjoying, seeing only good things.”
“…”
Her heart pounded wildly. She barely managed to swallow it down and say,
“…Thank you. For saying that.”
She could feel how hot her face was without looking in a mirror.
But she wasn’t embarrassed—just as always.
Amelie lifted her flushed face proudly.
“You’re right. I was worrying for no reason. I don’t even have enough time to spend with Your Grace.”
“…Mm.”
Christan, who had been talking just fine until now, suddenly looked away and quickly changed the subject.
“…Anyway, your achievements will soon be known across the Empire, and then no one will be able to look down on witches anymore.”
“Oh…”
Amelie blinked her large eyes.
He was right. Gaining undeniable achievements and raising the status of witches with imperial support had been her goal from the start.
With a determined smile and a small tilt of her eyes, she said,
“Thank you.”
“It’s not like I said anything special.”
“No, I mean what you just said—that’s my goal.”
Her earlier gloom was gone.
“I will definitely put an end to witch discrimination.”
Christan’s eyes widened slightly. He had already been looking only at her, but now it felt like his whole world was filled with her.
Even in the dim underground prison, with only a single ray of light, she seemed to shine brightly.
How could he not find this dazzling Amelie… lovable?
‘…What am I thinking right now?’
