~Chapter 71~
Erman regained consciousness while waiting for the patient carriage.
He decided to return to the palace immediately in order to receive the imperial physician’s diagnosis as soon as possible.
Leonard and several guards were assigned to escort the carriage, while Christan was chosen as the temporary leader of the remaining subjugation troops.
Erman climbed into the carriage. Leonard followed closely behind him.
“Your Highness, forgive my boldness, but I have something to ask.”
“What is it?”
“They say the suspects who attacked Your Highness are Sir Jos and Lady Winterfall. I wanted to ask if you saw anything yourself.”
“Amelie Winterfall is a suspect?”
Erman frowned at the absurd news.
“Ah! But the Duke actually testified that Lady Winterfall risked her life to protect you from Sir Jos. I only asked to confirm.”
“Risked her life…”
Erman’s gray eyes blinked. After a moment of deep thought, a meaningful smile spread across his face.
“The Duke is right. The criminal is Sir Jos.”
“As expected!” Leonard exclaimed, thrilled at the certainty.
“Calm down, Leonard. I’m fine, aren’t I?”
“How can I calm down? If not for Lady Winterfall, this would have been disastrous!”
“That’s true…”
Erman fell silent, lost in thought.
It was natural for nobles to protect royalty—it was their duty. But for him, who knew that Amelie had never really looked at him with admiration, it felt strangely different.
“…Lady Winterfall should be rewarded.”
“I completely agree. I’ll ride behind on horseback. Please rest until we arrive.”
“Alright.”
Breaking his thoughts, Leonard bowed and closed the carriage door. Soon, the sound of the driver urging the horses was heard, and the carriage began to move.
Leaning back into his seat, Erman muttered quietly:
“Amelie…”
Everything in his life had been given by Gaspar—the house, the fine clothes, even his friends. Everyone around him obeyed the Emperor’s orders more than they cared about him.
But that witch girl had appeared out of nowhere, not sent by the Emperor. And yet, she had spoken to him sincerely… and even risked her life to protect him.
Gratitude soon evolved into another kind of feeling.
“Could it be… she likes me, even a little?”
If Amelie herself had heard this, she would have been horrified. But there was no one to correct him now.
A faint smile curved Erman’s lips.
“Pretty girl… only doing pretty things.”
Inside the rattling carriage, his gray eyes slowly drifted closed.
Back at the mansion, Amel nearly dozed off as the maids prepared her bath.
But once she lay in bed, her mind filled with thoughts, keeping her awake.
“A shattered Rift… and even an attempted assassination of the Crown Prince…”
One incident after another. Though the subjugation ended safely, she worried about what was to come.
“Even if I’m unlikely to be blamed as the culprit… time will pass during the investigation. What if my achievements end up forgotten again?”
Her face hardened. Suddenly, she sat up and searched her pouch. From it, she pulled out a Careful Speech Potion and stared at it.
Originally, she had come to the capital planning to deal with the Emperor somehow and to reorganize her situation.
But thinking back on everything that happened since arriving, she could only laugh bitterly.
Instead of reorganizing, she was dragged into major incidents, attended Chiara Esmeralda’s tea party, and obeyed the Emperor’s orders. She had hardly done anything active by her own will.
“Was I always this passive…?”
Falling into self-reproach, Amel collapsed back onto the bed. Her red eyes, heavy with fatigue, stared blankly at the ceiling.
To make matters worse, Christan—her greatest source of strength—wasn’t home, away on some business. Her mood only sank further.
“I was too arrogant… I thought changing the world would be easier than it is…”
But her dark thoughts didn’t last long.
– Amel!
“…Huh?”
Hearing the familiar voice, she snapped awake. On the table, inside her teacup, the face of a black-haired witch appeared.
“Master…?”
– “Yes, it’s me.”
It was her teacher, the great witch Lilith, contacting her again through the teacup.
“How have you been? I was planning to contact you soon.”
– “I’m fine. What about you? I heard a Rift appeared near the capital.”
“Ah… I’m okay. I just came back from subjugating it.”
At those words, Lilith’s expression soured.
– “If I hadn’t asked, I never would’ve known, right?”
“N-no! I just finished, so I was going to tell you tomorrow. I was too tired!”
– “I can see that. You don’t look well.”
“Yes…”
After hesitating, Amel finally asked:
“Can I come see you now? There’s something I need to tell you.”
– “You want to come here now? Well, it’s not impossible… but what happened?”
“There was an incident.”
Seeing her serious face, Lilith nodded.
– “Alright. I’ll let the others know. Come when you’re ready.”
Meanwhile, Christan strolled in the front garden of the Count’s estate.
He had just returned from sending a letter to Bellerophon Castle. Its contents: to summon his aide, Gerard Siard, to the capital, and to bring gifts for Count Winterfall along the way.
As he walked back, his steps stopped.
Looking up, he noticed one curtain in the mansion that looked oddly out of place—cute white and pale blue. The owner was surely the woman closest to him in this estate.
At dinner earlier, Amel had excused herself, saying she was tired, and hadn’t come back out since.
He wanted to see her, but he couldn’t just call out to someone who said they were exhausted. Besides, the Count’s sharp watchful eyes kept him cautious.
So all he could do was gaze at her window from afar…
‘…Huh?’
The window was open.
“Your Highness?”
Christan blinked in shock as Amel suddenly appeared, broom in hand.
“Amelie!?”
“What are you doing out here?”
Standing on the windowsill, she leaned out to ask. Despite her being a witch, Christan couldn’t help feeling instinctively uneasy.
“That’s dangerous! Get back inside!”
“What? I can’t hear you well!”
The rustling leaves in the wind muffled their voices. Tilting her head, Amel finally shut the window behind her.
“Just a moment!”
Holding her dress in one hand and the broom in the other, she floated out the window—then softly landed before Christan, like descending with a parachute.
“…”
He glanced at her broom and asked:
“You’re going out? At this hour, through the window?”
“Yes. I’m going to the Witch’s Tower. I need to consult my master about the Crown Prince.”
“…I see.”
Christan said nothing more, only looking at her. Though the night wasn’t cold, the wind blew. He wanted to stop her, but when it came to witch matters, there was little he could do.
Still…
“When you come back,”
He took off the robe draped over his arm and carefully placed it over her thin dress. The faint warmth seeped into her skin.
“Uh…”
“Tell me, too—whatever it is you’re troubled about.”
A soft smile curved his lips. After tying the robe snugly around her, his hand lingered on her head, stroking her pale blue hair. The silky strands felt good between his fingers—too good.
Suppressing the urge to pull her closer, he withdrew his hand.
“Yes…”
And the best thing about her—though embarrassed, she never shrank away.
Blushing brightly even in the dark, Amel smiled.
“I’ll tell you everything when I come back!”
After a short farewell, she soared into the night sky on her broom.
As Christan watched her leave, someone approached.
“Your Grace.”
Sensing the presence, Christan turned. A servant of the Count stood before him.
“You must come to Count Winterfall immediately.”
