How To Love A Witch

“How dare he!” Count Dorison’s voice rattled the small carriage. “How could he humiliate me, marquis!”

“Calm down. What if your wound opens up again?” asked the figure cloaked in black as he took off his mask.

“Marquis Elijah…”

Marquis Elijah, a close supporter of the crown prince, had been waiting outside the wall.

The count appeared more like a dog with its tail in between its legs. “I didn’t know the poison would be ineffective… The apothecary even said a large animal would die from one drop…”

He was scared of the poison because there was no antidote. Yet in the end, he was embarrassed because the witch was alive and breathing, showing no signs of pain.

“We underestimated her. Witches are more dangerous than we thought,” the count hurriedly said.

“I suppose so.” The marquis nodded slowly. His eyes had a strange glint to them.

“The reward you spoke of…” It was said to be from the crown prince, but Count Dorison had another idea in mind. “My arm was injured. While the plan failed, it was the witch’s fault… Please don’t forget my loyalty.”

“Don’t worry about that,” the marquis said. He smiled. “When you return to the Edelin Empire, His Highness will reward your efforts.”

Wonderful. It wasn’t that the count didn’t want to see the duke, but it was good for him to be treated like a soldier who tried his best to defeat a witch. Blinded by dreams of grandeur, the count failed to notice the carriage had gone on a different path, heading into a nearby forest.

***

“Maybe it’s more delicious because I’m eating it in secret.” Having learned something new, I took another spoonful and put it in my mouth. It was sweet. Really tasty. “Eating ice cream in the kitchen is the best.”

A sweet coldness running down my throat couldn’t feel this good. However, it was a fleeting moment of joy.

“I have to eat quickly and go back to my room. If he finds out I’ve been sneaking around, he’s going to scold me.”

I would’ve been happier were it not for the fact I felt like a mouse running away from a cat. The ice cream in my mouth was bitter because I was nervous. In a small corner of Havel Castle’s kitchen, I was sitting in a chair. What was I doing exactly? Enjoying my freedom.

“Ugh, how can he keep me in his room for three days? It’s a crime, a crime I tell you…”

This was all because of my husband. After the incident with the Carcalos, the duke was in a high state of alert. Except for House 2, House 1 and House 3 joined forces to do everything possible to ensure I was cared for. There wasn’t an enthusiasm like this before, but recently, it had become more suffocating. And my husband was the one who led their efforts.

When I woke up, the butler ran in and begged me to comply with his lord’s order. It was like that for two days. However, I was slowly reaching my limit.

“If you’re going to imprison a witch, shouldn’t you try harder?”

They thought it was enough to guard the door, so as many as twelve people stood outside the room. I’m sorry, but my first choice of an escape route was the window. Kartelle has mountainous terrain, and the witches live in harmony with nature. Most witches are quick and agile as a result, so leaving through the window was a piece of cake. Yet my room was located on the third floor. The maid and butler would faint if they knew I jumped from there, so I couldn’t be caught. If they knew what I did, they would weep. I wasn’t sure what they’d do when I saw them, but they were going to make me promise not to do it again at the very least.

I refuse to make any promises. Shaking my head, I ate more ice cream. It’s been so long since I enjoyed my time.

“…What are you doing?”

I was so startled that I almost dropped the spoon I was holding. Successfully catching it, I looked up. Oh, no.

Maybe he just returned from sword practice, but my husband leaned against the doorway.

“How did you know I was here?”

“It was obvious.” Sighing, he walked into the kitchen and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.

It must have been hot outside. I pointed to the bowl of ice cream in my arms. “Do you want some?”

“…Are you making me your accomplice?”

“Please cooperate,” I grumbled, taking a spoonful of ice cream and holding it out to him.

Do I need to do more to persuade him? He hesitated for a moment before leaning down to eat the ice cream from the spoon.

I smiled. “We’re partners in crime now. You’re not allowed to abandon me later.”

If the chef said something about this, my husband had to play along with me. I was also conscious of the fact we used the same spoon, but it couldn’t be helped.

Thankfully, he nodded. “How did you get out of your room?”

It was time. I expected he’d ask, so I prepared an answer ahead of time.

“You’re wearing nothing but a nightgown.”

Never mind.

“…You even walked around barefoot.”

The conversation was going in a way I didn’t expect. Before I knew it, he wore a disgruntled expression on his face while staring at my feet. I tried to hide my foot, feeling the sting of his gaze.

“I know what to do for next time then.”

Look, I walked out in a hurry, but if I knew this would’ve happened, I might have tried to find some slippers. Regardless, there was a reason why I was barefoot.

“I couldn’t find any clothes to change into, let alone slippers.”

The cause of this problem was, of course, my husband who stood in front of me. I went to sleep in my room, but when I woke up in the morning, to my surprise, I was in his bedroom. Clearly, someone moved me every night, and this man was the only one who would do such a thing.

“Why didn’t you ask Miss Rhonda to prepare clothes for me to wear?”

“Oh, I did that on purpose. It was to keep you from leaving,” he answered. He sighed as if to say he never imagined I would proudly walk around in my nightgown. My husband took off his coat to put it on me. “You cannot just walk around because you feel better. What will we do if you get hurt again?”

I looked at him, wondering what else he was dissatisfied with. He nagged about me being cold.

“You’re eating ice cream while only wearing a nightgown. Dress warmly before you eat it.”

“Well, isn’t there someone we should blame for that then?”

Surprisingly, there was no retort to what I said.

“You do have a point. To think there were others who saw you like this…” he muttered while gritting his teeth.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t run into anyone on my way here.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“When I woke up, I was really hungry and rushed to the kitchen.” I wanted my freedom, but my instincts drove me here for the food.

“You were hungry and the first thing you eat is ice cream? I’ll ask the chef to make you something simple to eat…”

“No, it’s fine.”

It was very early in the morning. The servants were just waking up; however, my husband had already reached the door and was about to call for someone.

“We can eat breakfast later. Come here.” I patted the chair next to me.

My husband walked back to me and stared.

“Hmm? Do you want more?” I asked as if he wanted to take the spoon from my hand. “I don’t mind sharing. A husband should be well-fed, right?”

“Are you not going to eat?”

“I’m only giving you advice. Be a good husband, pampered and loved by his wife.”

“Oh?” He smiled as if he heard an amusing story. “So if I do what you say, you’ll love me?”

Why did he have to be a husband who spouts out gibberish constantly? I quickly handed him the spoon. He should eat and come to his senses.

Grinning, he approached me, and I wondered if he was going to start eating the ice cream. He lowered his head; quickly, he kissed me on the lips before stepping back.

I wasn’t able to react in time. “You’re an insane husband.” I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

“It’s how a person can thank someone.”

I remembered him telling me something like that. But how can he be grateful? In our conversation earlier, he had no shred of gratitude. I asked him what he was thanking me for.

He took a moment to think, then looked down at the bowl in my arms. “You gave me that.”

“I guess. It would’ve been troublesome if I gave you three spoons instead.”

Don’t give anything to my husband. The warning was stuck in my head. “In the future, you shouldn’t lie when thanking me.”

“I figured you’d say that,” he replied, sitting down and eating whatever ice cream remained in the bowl.

“Then why did you do it?” Putting aside the empty container, I stared at him. I didn’t think we could look the other way considering the future of our relationship.

“What do you mean? I did it because I wanted to.”

Somehow, his response made things more complicated in my mind. My face began to feel hot, yet I just finished eating ice cream. It was strange. I wondered if the poison from three days ago was the cause.

“…”

“What?”

When I made eye contact with him, my face turned red. I briefly recalled that dream.

“Did you fall in love with him?”

“You’re lying. You protected him.”

Damn it. I knew what I had to admit. I was afflicted with a poison called Lukas Havel. My heart would be a mess this time, not my stomach. It’s fine. As long as the poison didn’t go any further, I’ll be fine. I tried my best to reassure myself.

“It’s nothing…” I mumbled and shook my head.

After staring at me, my husband rose from his seat and stood in front of me. For some reason, I couldn’t look him in the eye, but I felt his gaze. How long did he stay like that?

“Do you recall what I said the other day?”

“Huh?”

“It was when you were still under the effects of the poison.”

“Um…”

“You lost consciousness, so our conversation was cut short.”

Oh, right.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” he had said. During “that night”, we were talking until I fell asleep and had a dream.

“What were you going to say?”

His expression suddenly became serious. “Ella.”

“Yes?”

“Do you want to live with me?”