Chapter 59
There must have been some reason why the lord told her to hold his hand.
Since she couldn’t very well pull away after already taking it, Ann carefully clasped Hannibal’s hand in return.
His large palm was warm.
“You’ve read the life of Assad Clayde, haven’t you?”
“…Yes. Recently the butler has been recommending books about the family, and I’ve been reading them.”
“Do you know what it means when it says that only Clayde’s true partner can survive the Witch’s Forest?”
At those words, Ann tilted her head in thought before answering.
“Doesn’t it mean that only the partner acknowledged by the witch is permitted to enter?”
Hannibal nodded as if he’d expected that reply.
“The copy in the library is the abridged version—many details were left out. To be precise, the witch decreed that anyone protected by Assad’s ring cannot be harmed, not just his lover.”
“If it’s Assad’s ring… isn’t that the relic of the witch you’re wearing right now, my lord?”
“Yes. The witch’s relic. She gave it to Assad as a token of her love, a promise that she would protect him. And so, anyone who bears that ring, and anyone touching them, cannot be harmed.”
In the book Ann had read, there was only the briefest mention—that the witch had handed over a relic as proof of the blessing she gave Clayde.
“Then… do other witch’s relics, like the Witch’s Compass, have the same effect?”
“No. Only Assad’s ring grants protection.”
“I see. So each relic must have a different function.”
Though Ann was head maid, she had never been inside the castle’s underground vault.
After the incident with May, Ann had been cautious, and neither the butler nor Hannibal had assigned her to clean there.
Still, knowing that the witch’s relics were kept there among other treasures, she couldn’t help but be curious.
Unable to release the hand she was holding, Ann fidgeted in embarrassment.
“Well, yes, that’s how it is. In truth, the witch’s relics don’t have much practical function. Their symbolic value is greater.”
“But Matilda managed to flee far away using the Witch’s Compass.”
“That thing can’t really be used for travel. It can only point a direction—and more often than not, it drops you in a completely irrelevant place. In fact, the Witch’s Compass was closer to a gift meant to cause trouble for Assad.”
“Ah…”
Her mouth filled with bitterness as she thought again of Matilda’s death. Hannibal, as if sensing her turmoil, tightened his grip on her hand.
“Th-then… why do we have to keep holding hands?”
“What do you think people would say if you walked out of this forest alive?”
At that, Ann nodded in understanding.
True enough. No one could know she was a blood-contractee of the witch.
“But… don’t people not know that Assad’s ring can protect someone other than his lover?”
What if a rumor spread that she was Hannibal’s lover?
Ann shivered.
“I plan to explain it so they’ll know. I’d prefer to avoid needless misunderstandings myself.”
“Yes, please do, my lord.”
Better to be seen as the lucky head maid who survived thanks to the lord’s favor, than to be rumored as a witch’s contractee.
Having already been the target of misunderstandings because of Gray, Ann was determined not to invite suspicion again. She stressed her words to Hannibal.
They hadn’t walked far before the entrance came into sight, light from outside streaming into the forest.
Still, she had managed to enter the Witch’s Forest in the West and survive. More than that—she now had the goal of bringing back Count Arthur.
And she had uncovered new truths.
She was a blood-contractee of the witch? What on earth had happened?
Could that be the reason she had regressed? Did someone strike a bargain with the witch on her behalf, offering payment so that she could return?
The more she thought about it, the tighter her chest grew. Yet the hand she held gave her the calm she needed to take steady steps toward the entrance.
Hannibal was the first to take Ann’s hesitant hand.
Her hand was small enough to rest easily in his, soft but not fragile.
Not the pampered hands of noble ladies, but hands that had worked diligently at every moment.
The diligent head maid.
Regardless of her loyalty to the Claydes, she was trustworthy, sincere in her work.
She loved money, but she wasn’t petty; she was polite, yet honest, easily swept up in emotion—Ann Pero.
Thinking of Matilda, Hannibal had squeezed her trembling fingers more firmly.
For someone who didn’t tend to her hands, they were surprisingly smooth, though the cracks at her fingertips bothered him.
She must have been so busy and overworked.
She wasn’t the type to complain, so the only apology Hannibal could offer—for having doubted her all this time—was to reward her properly.
“My lord! You’ve returned! My lord!! Huh?”
Ever since Ann Pero had disappeared into the forest, the group had been sunk in heavy gloom.
So when Ann reemerged holding the lord’s hand, everyone stared in shock.
Flustered by their looks, Ann quickly dropped his hand and bowed deeply.
“Thank you so much for sparing my life, my lord!”
Hannibal, loud enough for all to hear, declared:
“Know that it was by Assad’s ring and the witch’s grace that your life was saved. If the lord wears the ring and holds another’s hand, even the Witch’s Forest will not attack. So give your thanks to the witch who bestowed this ring.”
“Yes, I understand!”
Ann’s posture, firm and proper, was the very image of a loyal retainer.
Those who might have been searching for some romantic tension between the two relaxed and smiled instead.
“Thank goodness, thank goodness. I thought you were really dead—”
“Right, Young Lord Sandor was up all night worrying, saying you slipped near the forest—”
It was Natalie and the coachman, who had come with her, who patted her in relief.
“Ann Pero!”
Sandor pushed through the crowd.
“Do you know how frightened I was when you fell by accident? It’s a miracle you returned alive!”
He drew close with a worried expression.
But Ann pulled back sharply from his reaching hand.
Looking up at him sternly, she saw his face pale.
Of course he must be panicking now that she’d returned alive.
“Ann, the truth is—”
She didn’t want to hear his excuses. Turning her head, she saw Hannibal approaching.
“Dello Sandor, once we return to Tegenes, I will charge you with attempted murder of Ann Pero.”
“No, no! It was an accident! I swear it! To prove my innocence I was going to jump into the forest first, but when she tried to stop me, Ann fell instead!”
Sandor stammered out excuses.
How could he keep lying so brazenly?
Ann, unable to hold back her anger, spoke firmly:
“No. You shoved me, Sir Sandor—and you laughed while doing it. And at that moment, you even confessed your guilt!”
“Lies! Ann Pero, how dare a mere maid slander a noble!”
Sandor barked, but no one believed him.
The moment Ann Pero emerged alive from the Witch’s Forest, his scheme had collapsed.
To the end he denied it, but Hannibal gave his order:
“Then go back in now.”
“The lord may be protected by the witch when present, but how could I possibly go alone?”
“Then I’ll go with you. But I won’t hold your hand to shield you. If you truly are Victoria Clayde’s partner, you’ll be able to enter, won’t you?”
Sandor put on a respectful yet troubled face.
“It seems Ann Pero is favored by the witch, enough to bring her from the capital to Tegenes. I shall return with Lady Victoria, openly, as her partner.”
“That will not happen. Ann Pero swore the truth before the altar. And even the witch herself named you the culprit.”
Hannibal’s words struck the final blow. At his gesture, knights stepped forward to seize Sandor’s arms.
Once they returned to the castle, he would be thrown into prison with no escape.
“My lord, please!! I only… I only resented a maid who slandered my true feelings! That’s all—I’m innocent!”
“Bind him separately.”
“Yes, sir!”
No matter what he shouted, Sandor was dragged away, tied up, and loaded into another carriage apart from the group.
“Let’s return.”
Hannibal mounted his horse, while Ann rode in the carriage with the remaining commoners.
“Did the lord save you?”
“How did you survive?”
The others looked at Ann eagerly, waiting for her to explain.
“Luckily, the moment the young lord pushed me, the lord found me right away. I was fortunate—otherwise, the forest would’ve swallowed me up immediately.”
“Oh, my. Still, seeing the two of you holding hands, you looked good together.”
“As if the lord would need to—though, well, our head maid is pretty, she is.”
There were always people ready to gossip whenever a young man and woman appeared together.
“The lord only saved me, that’s all. Please don’t misunderstand.”
Thanks to Hannibal’s earlier explanation, she wouldn’t be misunderstood further even without her own protestations.
Still, Ann did her utmost to defend herself.
For she knew well—through bitter experience—that when commoners got entangled with nobles, it was always the lower folk who paid the price.
