Chapter 2: The Dangerous Apple for Witches
Chapter 2: The Dangerous Apple for Witches
GIGANTIC columns of clouds soared through the azure sky. Summer was at its peak. The forest had become more vibrant—yet, no matter how green the woods turned, the lake maintained an icy bite.
Strands of pale-pink hair drifted atop the rippling water. As Rose floated on the surface, her chemise spread as if blooming on the lake. For someone who hated bathing, she had taken to the lake quite often these days. Surely it was due to the hot weather. She had no other special reason for it.
Since Tien had paid her a visit just the other day, he wasn’t likely to come by any time soon. Besides, even if he or someone else happened to spot her bathing, she wouldn’t even bat an eye or blush. It was the same as being seen by a smug deer.
She had informed Harij that there wasn’t anything for him to do for another month. He wasn’t the type to pay a visit for no reason, and it was noontime anyway. Harij never came to the Witch’s abode while the sun was up.
The month she told him to wait felt both long and short. Loneliness from not seeing him and satisfaction from staying in Harij’s memories just that much longer warred within, exhausting Rose.
She was a pro at controlling her emotions, but she didn’t know how uncontrollable love could be.
Nevertheless, the one-month period was actually necessary for processing the raw materials. The only reason she told Harij the exact amount of time was that witches couldn’t tell a lie. This was why only witches could make potions that were too powerful and potent for human hands to handle.
A witch who used the lie of magic could not use lies other than magic.
Thus, witches isolated themselves from mankind and lived as a different species. Acting unfriendly and being creepy like creatures that go bump in the night were some of the methods they used to prevent others from discovering they couldn’t tell a lie. Rose also imitated the witches of the past and treaded with care in every manner of life so as not to have her one weakness exposed.
She kept contact with people to a minimum and meticulously controlled her words and facial expressions. Her baggy robe was critical in preventing people from seeing through what she failed to conceal.
That being said, all she had to do was just not lie—dodging the truth and changing the topic were great alternatives. As luck would have it, Rose had no qualms about doing just that.
Following that method thus far was what allowed her to survive alone for years.
“Guess I should wash my chemise, too…”
With weather this good, it should dry within a few hours. The robe and dress she had just finished washing hung from a rope she’d tied between two trees. Rose swam to shore to add her chemise to the space between them.
She shook her drenched body like a wet dog, then untied the chemise’s strap at her back, and the fabric fell to her feet. Since the fancy green robe was her only change of clothes, she was stuck waiting for the laundry to dry—naked. After all, she didn’t want to dirty her new robe yet.
The chemise, soaked with water, was quite heavy. She folded it several times and squeezed it tight. While she focused on twisting the fabric, water dripped onto it from her hair, adding moisture right back in.
“Aaah! Darn it…!”
Chest-length pale-pink hair clung to her skin. Everything about this was starting to annoy her, so she unfurled the chemise and shook it out. The water droplets returned to the lake with a lyrical splishedy-splash. Entertained, she became enthralled in repeating the same action.
She became so distracted that she completely let down her guard. When she heard the bell inside ring to announce a visitor, she turned around with the assumption it was the smug deer checking her out again.
She made eye contact with the man standing directly across the shore from her. It was such a shock she couldn’t breathe.
Harij was there.
Rose froze with her unfolded chemise in hand. Harij, standing on the forest-side bank, was also paralyzed as he gaped at her.
For a long moment, they both stared at each other, forgetting to breathe.
Chirp, chirp, chirp…
Small forest songbirds sang with their beautiful voices.
Harij wrenched away his gaze first. “I’m sorry!”
He presented her with his back with great speed. From the sound of his voice, she gathered how shaken the usually composed knight was.
“Hahahaha…” Rose let out a dry laugh.
Her face was surely redder than a tomato. Her heart raced so hard it hurt. She threw her wet chemise on the rope, hid it underneath her robe, and rushed inside the house. Covering her hot face with both hands, she leaned against the front door and slid down to her bottom. The strength left her legs.
Did he see me? He saw me. He totally saw me! Saw this pale skin and my unshapely figure without a corset on!
Rose couldn’t care less if Tien or another client saw her naked, but him? Being seen by him made her feel unbearably ashamed.
I can’t believe it. I was sure he wouldn’t come. I told him it would take a month, and it’s daytime! What in the world brought him out here?
Rose’s brain felt as if it were boiling over, but she remembered that Harij was still outside. She couldn’t keep him waiting forever. She forced herself to her trembling feet and scrambled over to the closet. She had no choice but to wear the robe from Tien against her bare skin. Nothing felt more uncomfortable than not having anything on underneath. Then she checked her appearance in the water jug. Reflected back at her was a normal woman with misty eyes, flushed pink cheeks, and a goofy expression.
Rose gave her cheek a good slap. Then she slapped the other cheek as hard as possible. Both stung like hell, but it helped her regain a modicum of calm.
She opened the front door and called out across the lake. “I apologize for the wait. You may come over now.”
Harij, who had kept his back to her like a gentleman until she gave the okay, turned around with his jaw set in a rigid line. There wasn’t much distance between her island and the opposite shore, allowing Rose to clearly make out his face.
Harij seemed to have calmed down as well—at least, he was calmer on the surface than Rose felt. Even when he tried desperately to hide his noble upbringing by wearing commoner clothes, some of his graceful behavior still seeped through. Under the bright sky, he was even more dazzling than usual.
The fact that Rose could perfectly make him out across the lake proved that he had fully glimpsed her in her immodest lack of attire. Her head felt as if it were going to explode in panic.
Harij rowed the boat across the lake and tied it to the iron dock cleat. After confirming that the boat was secured, he turned around.
“Please forgive my grave indiscretion.”
He hadn’t done anything wrong, but she could distinguish the depth of his regret from the deep lines in his brow. She couldn’t bear to look at him and instead lowered her gaze to the deep-forest-green robe she wore.
I’m naked under the robe. I’m standing in front of him in an outrageous state. Realizing it made all the blood rush to her head, instantly frying her brain.
“N-No need for apology. I simply didn’t think you would pay me a visit, Sir Harij…”
“…You know…who I am?”
A muscle in Rose’s cheek twitched. Uttering the name of a client she kept to her internal thoughts only was a huge mistake she would have never made under normal circumstances.
Harij’s voice was tight. His apologetic expression was nowhere to be seen—and instead became the stern countenance of a knight.
Rose bit her lip in frustration over her blunder. He hadn’t once told her his name. She should have been fully aware of that important detail, and yet she foolishly let it slip out. It appeared the upset over being seen naked was still affecting her. Panic gnawed at her thoughts. In her heart, Rose prayed she could regain her sanity.
“Yes. Indeed, I do.”
“Since when?”
“……”
Rose turned down her head in fear of another slip of the tongue. She couldn’t come up with the right words to evade the question. This was a first for her, which only served to further sink her into confusion.
“Answer me.”
But she wasn’t capable of misleading Harij, who had switched into knight mode. Telling the truth was the only option on the table when she lacked the mindset to cleverly talk her way out of it.
“…Since four years ago.”
“…For that long?”
“Yes…please spare me.”
Aaah, you fool. Stop. Rose wanted to cast a spell on her mouth. But her lips, only capable of telling the truth, tried to find a way out of this situation with words.
“I never divulge my client’s information, I can promise you that. I am in a very unusual situation right now. If you keep asking more questions, I will be forced to come clean about everything.”
Rose became so panicked she lacked oxygen. Her head spun. She couldn’t stop blabbing.
“Huh? What are you talking about?” Harij gave her a dubious stare.
Rose saw the look in his eyes and was propelled into further inner chaos. After all, she was naked under the single piece of cloth she wore.
“W-Witches cannot tell a lie! Such is the price of using magic!”
Oh no. I’m a failure. I’ve exposed the witches’ greatest secret that is never to be spoken of.
Rose turned around and banged her head against the wall. She couldn’t come up with a better idea to silence her panic.
“H-Hey.” Harij was confused by the sudden drastic change in Rose’s behavior caused by his questioning.
“Please don’t ask. I truly…am sorry,” she confessed breathlessly, no longer slamming her head against the wall. Her forehead turned bright red where she had been hitting it repeatedly, and it was covered in small scratches. If Harij kept querying her, Rose would definitely reveal all her secrets, without leaving anything out. She couldn’t let that happen.
She felt guilty toward all the other witches for exposing their weakness, but what was done was done. They would just have to protect themselves in the unlikely event that Harij spread their secret. Witches were capable of doing so; they could absolutely look after themselves. Rose strongly believed that.
For that reason, Rose was far more frightened of Harij discovering her feelings than the witches’ deepest secret. She would rather die than suffer the miserable plight of him—the strong, handsome nobleman blessed by the sun—discovering that she—a mere witch who was neither a noblewoman, a beauty, or a village girl—loved him.
“That’s right…”
It was such an obvious fact, it entirely escaped Rose’s mind that she was a witch. Witches specialized in potion-making, and potions were used for more than just healing. One of their many uses was poison.
Eyes reddened from her crazed mental state, Rose rushed to the back of the hermitage and ransacked the small vials on the shelf. The glass vials collided with each other, loudly clanging and clinking. She snatched up the potion she sought: one that could bring down the biggest ox in a matter of seconds.
Rose was putting pressure in her fingers to pop the cork when Harij hugged her from behind.
“What are you doing?!”
Rather than a hug, it was more accurate to say she was being restrained from behind. Harij swiftly snatched the vial away from Rose, the same way he might confiscate the murder weapon from a culprit.
It happened so fast, the momentum knocked Rose to the ground. In the process, her robe spread open, exposing her bare thigh. In a flurry, she pulled the robe back into place.
“I’m not trying to put on a show here. I may be a witch, but I’m not a slut. Most of my earnings go toward ingredients for the next potion, and, um…I don’t care much about fashion…so that’s why I don’t have a change of clothes.”
“I understand. Just wait before you do anything foolish,” Harij said to calm her, a hint of exasperation on his face. “I’m sorry. Truly. I can see that you are far more disturbed by what happened than you appear, Lady Witch.” He placed Rose’s poison vial on the workbench. Then he offered his gloveless hand to her, where she was still crouched on the floor.
Rose stiffened with her eyes locked on that hand. How long had it been since someone last reached out to her? She was positive it had happened while her grandmother was still alive, but it was so long ago, she couldn’t remember.
Harij didn’t scorn her for being too scared to take his hand. On the contrary, he gently put an arm around her shoulders, helped her to her feet, and escorted her to a chair as he might a noblewoman.
He knelt down on one knee before the Witch, whose head was spinning too hard to keep up with what was happening.
He—Harij Azm, the man Rose had been crushing on for four long years—was kneeling before a mere witch. An even worse wave of dizziness crashed over her.
“I apologize for exposing a secret that would make you choose death, Lady Witch. I swear on my honor as a knight that I will take it to the grave with me. You have my solemn oath. Please believe me.”
In response, Rose could only manage to nod her head like a broken doll. She didn’t take the pure and humble path of correcting his misunderstanding. Instead, she gripped her hands in front of her robe, making it look as if she was trying to keep the two sides together.
“How did you know that the potion I tried to take was poison?”
“I didn’t know what the vial contained, but I recognized the look in your eyes. Cornered suspects usually share that same look when they are about to attempt a risky escape. I’m glad I made it in time.”
Harij exhaled a great sigh of relief. Realizing he cared just as much about the life of a mere witch made Rose fall head over heels for him all over again.
As her gaze stayed plastered on him, Harij stood with a wry smile. Then he went outside, only to return with a basket a moment later.
“I’d have no choice but to finish this all by myself if I hadn’t.”
The basket was full of bread. Moreover, it looked like soft, white bread.
“You don’t eat much, right? You are…a young lady. You need more meat on your bones. Especially since you handle potions. Potion-making is fraught with danger as it is—you won’t last long if you fall ill, thin as you are.”
No way. Did he go out of his way to come during the day just for that? I can’t believe it. Rose looked from the bread to Harij.
“…Thank you.”
A trembling heart. An aching chest. Rose didn’t know how to describe the way she felt. Fulfillment spread through her, her heart raced so hard she couldn’t breathe, and she wanted to cling to him and cry.
He’s worried about me. That meant, for even the briefest moment, he thought about her. She had been in his thoughts just enough that when he saw bread in the market, he decided to buy it for Rose, even though she wasn’t with him.
Oh, so this is “joy.” Rose tasted the emotion for the first time. She was unbelievably happy that the person she loved went out of his way for her.
Will I remain in his memories? Will he think back on the strange witch who only ever ate lettuce?
Rose needed nothing more than for him to think of her even once the next time he saw lettuce.
“It looks delicious.”
She accepted the basket from him and could feel the bread was still a little warm. She had eaten bread while her grandmother was still alive and during her occasional visits to the capital. But this was the first time she had seen such soft-looking bread. A lump formed in her chest and throat, and tears misted her eyes. In contrast, Harij raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“Wait. You plan to eat there?”
“Hmm? Yes, why wouldn’t I?”
Harij stopped Rose as she was about to pick up a piece of bread from the basket she had placed on top of her lap.
“Clean off this table first.”
He pointed to the table crammed with a mess of haphazardly piled junk. The lettuce from God knows when was left out to die again.
Pointing out her messy living space wasn’t meant to give her the peace of mind that it did. Rose felt as if she had finally regained a semblance of her normal self.
“…This is why nobles make poor guests.”
“I can hear you.”
“You’re meant to.”
Rose wrestled with the mountain of odds and ends until the table was clean. Harij then spread out a tablecloth. Why, the elite knight had even brought that! He had likely suspected that the one belonging to this table was buried somewhere amid the dirt and clutter. Though Rose was loath to admit it, he was right on the money.
The ironed tablecloth was tasteful but simple, and it fit nicely in the Witch’s small hermitage. Sunlight shining through the small window fell upon the quaint table set.
“Where is the bread knife?”
“Will a kitchen knife do?”
“It will.”
Rose expressed her thanks for his lenience on her lack of knife choices and selected the cleanest knife from her workbench.
“I also bought butter.”
“I have spoons for measuring ingredients…”
She returned with a small cutting board and a wooden spoon and took her seat.
Harij, the man she had pined after for four years, sat directly across from her. Rose blinked three times to make sure he wasn’t a figment of her imagination. He didn’t vanish. She wasn’t daydreaming. Four years ago, or rather up until this afternoon, she never dreamed this day would come.
“This is an unusual butter.”
“Supposedly it’s apple butter. I heard it tastes good on bread.”
“Fascinating… I love apples, so I can’t wait to try it.”
Thick and creamy butter filled the small jar he placed on the table. It was much thicker than the butter Rose used for potions.
While Rose curiously examined the jar, Harij sliced the bread. He took a huge helping of apple butter with the wooden spoon and spread it on a slice. Apple pieces could be seen in the juicy butter glaze. Rose’s mouth watered and she swallowed in anticipation.
“Here.”
“Thank you.”
With both hands, she picked up the slice he’d placed on the plate. It was several times softer than she had imagined. All this time, she had only ever eaten hard bread—the kind that usually had to be dipped in soup. This bread’s softness almost made it slip from her grasp.
The butter sparkled in the sunlight, and the sweet scent of apple tickled her nose. She took a big bite and swallowed.
“…!”
Rose’s eyes widened in surprise. She followed it up with another big bite.
“…!”
The second bite was just as impactful. It was that delicious.
Soft, fluffy bread filled her mouth. It was not only soft, but chewy. This was Rose’s first time experiencing such a mysterious texture.
And the apple butter exceeded her expectations. The consistency of the mashed apples was as good as the milky butter. The rich apple and butter flavors married into a heavenly deliciousness. Rose lost herself in scarfing it down.
Harij watched with mixed emotions as Rose devoured the bread with such intensity it seemed she’d forgotten about the guest sitting across from her.
Thinking back, today was truly a chaotic day for him.
Members of the Azm family had been recorded in the noble family directory as supporters of the Kingdom of Marjan for generations.
Born as the third son of a count, Harij was knighted at the age of twenty. His primary duty as a royal knight was guarding Princess Billaura. Billaura was still young enough to be called a girl, but she had all the traits of a wonderful princess—an amiable personality, a charitable heart, decorum, and unending generosity.
Billaura’s older brother, the second prince, was also Harij’s childhood friend. Because Harij had known Billaura since she was a little girl, he treasured her like a younger sister even though he knew it was presumptuous of him.
Billaura also relied on Harij as though he were really her older brother, but she never once demanded anything of him or acted spoiled. Until that day.
“I beg of you, Harij. This is the only thing I will ever ask of you. Please do me this favor not as a knight serving his princess’s orders, but as a favor to the girl Laura who adores you like a brother.” Billaura pleaded with him in the voice of a broken-hearted girl while the determination of a nation’s princess gleamed in her eyes.
“Please, obtain a love potion for me.”
That kind of potion only distorts a person’s mind and manipulates future actions—both against the drinker’s will. Harij was absolutely against it. However, he also couldn’t reject such a heartfelt request from Billaura, who, until now, had never once asked him for even the smallest of favors.
Visiting the Witch as a knight in direct service to Princess Billaura risked scandalizing her name. Thus, Harij paid the Witch a clandestine visit.
The Witch’s dwelling place was said to be hidden deep within the forest, the exact location a mystery. After losing his way more times than he would like to admit, Harij arrived at a hovel that looked as if it would be blown right off its foundation during a windstorm. This was the Witch’s hermitage.
And the first witch he had ever met lived in a room that was shockingly dark and dirty. She always hid under a baggy old robe and sent him away on awfully questionable fetch quests.
As time passed, his suspicion of the Witch escalated. There was no common ground between this upright knight who lived for justice and the witch who was entirely shrouded in darkness.
That was why he had been greatly surprised to see the Witch surface from the water. He thought he had stumbled across a fairy living in the lake. The sight of her was too surreal.
He assumed she didn’t venture into the sunlight much, for her pure-white skin was as beautiful as snow. The court noblewomen who dusted their faces with white powder to achieve a similar look would surely be jealous. Try as he might, Harij couldn’t tear his gaze from her and the water droplets sparkling in her pale-pink tresses.
He hadn’t thought she was an old woman, but he’d never imagined she was a young lady, either. It never even occurred to Harij that a woman this young would be living out here alone.
By the time Harij put two and two together and realized it wasn’t a fairy but the Witch—she noticed his presence. Her dark-green eyes, which usually stayed hidden beneath the shadow of her hood, had widened.
Harij sincerely regretted his actions. He had been too stunned by the sight of her that he failed to look away and ended up with a clear view of her naked body, without realizing it would so unsettle the always-composed witch that she’d choose to take her own life with poison rather than face him. On the bright side, the incident taught Harij a lot.
He learned the Witch was a young woman and that witches were incapable of lying in spite of how suspicious they appeared. All those unreasonable, merciless tasks she gave weren’t to get rid of him, but were necessary for the potion. He thought all this time that she was ripping him off, when it turned out she could hardly afford to have a dress made because the majority of her asking price went to materials. He discovered that the witch he could never get a good read on was actually a normal woman capable of embarrassment.
And lastly, he learned that she was very fond of bread spread with apple butter.
“…Do you live here alone, Lady Witch?”
When he bought the freshly baked bread in the city, it was actually because he was afraid the thin witch would die from starvation before finishing the potion.
She wasn’t on the brink of death, of course. But seeing her apple-colored cheeks stuffed with bread, he knew he’d made the right choice.
He should take his leave soon given her present attire. But the recent memory of how she’d curled in on herself, prepared to take her own life in a bout of depression, made him fear she might truly die if he left her alone right now.
He was relieved she enjoyed the bread he’d rushed outside to get for her.
Showing poor table manners, the Witch licked the apple butter off her fingers and stared at Harij.
“Hmm? Yes, I live alone.”
“Isn’t that too dangerous?”
It was already risky enough for anyone to live alone, and those dangers multiplied for a young woman. While there may not be many crooks willing to sneak into a shady old witch’s abode, there was an endless supply of scoundrels ready to steal inside a beautiful young lady’s home.
The Witch blinked at him as if to inquire why he would ask such a question at this juncture.
He couldn’t very well admit that he’d had the wrong idea about her age all this time, so Harij cleverly chose silence.
“Well…it can be. But I avoid the danger by keeping to myself, and I don’t get many visitors. Whenever someone questionable comes by, I immediately hide in the cellar under the floorboards.”
From the way she spoke, he gathered she had experienced that quite often. Imagining the Witch waiting, shivering, in the dark under the floorboards for some scoundrel to leave was cause for great concern.
“…You have been living like this all along?”
“Yes, my entire life,” the Witch said without inflection.
She spoke as if it were only natural, being alone and looking out for herself. As if it was a fact that didn’t need mentioning.
It worried Harij, but he couldn’t find the right words to say in response.
It just wasn’t proper. A young lady deserved to be kept safe by someone. Whether that be their guardian or by their guardian preparing a dowry and marrying them off.
Women should be protected. Harij was raised with that belief, as most noblemen were.
Yet, even if he held such a belief, what could he say as someone who was neither involved with nor responsible for her?
So Harij did the one thing he could and smeared apple butter on a second slice of bread and placed it in front of the Witch. This time, he applied double the amount.
∴ ∵ ∴
“PARDON the intrusion.”
Of all the unbelievable things, Harij came the next day, too. Carrying yet another delicious-smelling basket with him to boot. There was still plenty of time before the one month to prep the potion was up. Harij should have been well aware he had no business to attend to at the Witch’s hermitage right now.
He gracefully took a seat and waited after handing the food over to Rose, who stared at him with a muscle twitching in her cheek.
“…I beg your pardon, but my home isn’t a destination for hanging out…,” Rose said bluntly, unsure of why he came.
Still, she couldn’t stop from taking an excited peek inside the basket. Yesterday’s bread tasted heavenly. Whatever he brought today, she had high expectations for it.
After what happened yesterday, Rose was afraid that things were going to become even more awkward than before, but it had quite the opposite effect—she was able to speak more naturally with him now. It turned out to be a good case of shock therapy.
Well, at least I forgot what I showed off yesterday. It totally didn’t happen.
“Don’t worry about it,” Harij said, taking out a book he had on him. He then proceeded to read it.
She had no idea what his comment or his actions meant, but she was willing to let it slide because the goodies he brought today smelled heavenly.
What taste is waiting for me? I want to cut into it this instant!
Rose, who hadn’t experienced a regular diet before, was entirely fascinated by everything Harij brought. It was safe to say that he had tamed her with food.
When she stood in the former kitchen, where her workbench had taken over, Harij peered up from his book and said, “Put a lot of tea leaves in my cup.”
“Oh, right.”
It didn’t occur to her to serve him tea. Until now, Harij had left the moment his business was finished, implying he didn’t want to stay in her hovel a second longer than necessary. So was this his way of declaring he planned to stay for a while? What in the world changed his mind?
The Witch’s hermitage was neither a hangout nor a café, but she couldn’t refuse him after he’d delivered delicious food to her.
Somehow, Rose managed to open and close the cabinet that was still a terrible mess with some mighty loud crashes, all while successfully unearthing a tea tin. She had received it ages ago as a thank-you gift from a certain esteemed member of the peerage for preparing a secret potion.
Rose looked inside and couldn’t help but utter aloud, “Oh dear, it’s moldy.”
“Stop right there. You better not be planning on brewing that!” Harij stormed over to Rose and snatched the tea tin from her hand. Next to the stunned witch, Harij peeked into the tin. After a long moment, he softly closed the lid in silence. “I’ll bring some tea leaves with me tomorrow.”
“If you say so… Wait, what? You are coming again tomorrow?!”
“Yes. Do you have any tea preferences?”
“…No. I certainly do not, but…” Rose fumbled over her response.
She was bewildered by the sudden increase in Harij’s visits. It wasn’t necessarily a problem, because other visitors never came during this hour and he wouldn’t distract from her potion-making. The real problem was whether her heart would last with the object of her affections being around all the time.
Oblivious to her feelings, Harij cocked an eyebrow. “But?”
“Well…I was wondering if you have the time to visit this often.”
“I visit because I have the time.”
Of course he does, Rose stated the obvious in her thoughts.
“…My subordinates have been on my case about not taking any days off. They apparently want me to use up my paid leave until the large-scale reassignment takes place soon.”
Ignorant of the way of the world, Rose could only tilt her head.
“Long story short, instead of taking a whole day off, I’m extending my lunch breaks.”
Harij put it in simpler terms, but Rose still couldn’t quite wrap her head around the concept. What she did take away from it was that Harij was going out of his way to visit her. With gift baskets of food.
Feeling Rose’s gaze upon him, Harij glanced out the window.
“I can relax here.”
She followed his gaze out the window to where greenery grew in abundance. Summer in the forest was Rose’s favorite season of the year. Young green sprouts took over, and sunlight shone through the tree cover, brightening the year-long dark forest.
“Do you like the woods?”
“Hmm? Yeah.”
“Me too. I like it a lot.”
Rose had been looking at the woods since the day she was born and she still never tired of it. For a witch who lived together with nature, the changes in the forest were also a lifeline. Keeping a careful eye on even the smallest of daily changes allowed her to discover new things every day. The same could also be said of her crush.
Delighted by this new discovery, her lips spread into a slight smile behind her sleeve.
“I’m afraid I don’t have any black tea. Will hot water do?”
“…Good enough.”
Harij seemed surprised by her offering plain hot water, but he didn’t complain. His attitude toward her had softened significantly. Perhaps he was staying longer not just because he enjoyed the forest, but also because he had gotten used to being in the presence of the Witch.
Rose opened the basket while she waited for the water to boil in the pot. Inside was a gorgeous tart that dazzled the eye like the most cherished jewelry inside a noblewoman’s jewelry box.
“What is this, sir?”
“Tarte tatin, supposedly.”
“Tarte ta·tin…?”
Even the name had a lovely ring to it. Rose couldn’t help repeating it. Tarte tatin. She was enjoying the tart before she even tasted it. The tarte tatin resembled an apple pie that had been accidentally turned over. Apples cut in various sizes and shapes, then sautéed in butter and sugar, sat snugly in the pie pan. The caramelized apples twinkled in the sunlight like gems.
It would be a waste to eat such a work of art. Rose deeply inhaled the rich aroma. The smell of spices and juicy apples intermingled with the sweetness. She caught a hint of what might be cinnamon and rum.
Cutting it with a kitchen knife proved difficult. Although the evenly sautéed apples were tender, Rose had to apply pressure to cut through the harder bottom layer. When she cut into the corner, her knife sliced into a hardened piece of caramel with a crisp crunch. She stifled a tiny scream at the sound that reminded her of cutting through bone.
A sigh of relief slipped from her when she finally managed to cut a piece. The dessert was beautiful from above, but the cross-sectional view was yet another sight to behold. The tender, sweetly sautéed apples looked like they drank a cup of caramel and then napped in what they couldn’t finish.
The dark amber interior drew a beautiful contrast with the browned pastry crust, making Rose wish she could stare at it forever. But a tart’s true value came from eating it. She returned to the table with the cups of hot water and slices of tarte tatin. Harij put his book aside to eat.
“Thank you for dessert,” Rose said, expressing her gratitude, and plunged her fork into her slice. Soft apples spilled out of the pastry. She glanced over at Harij. The tart maintained its perfect shape for him as he ate it with a poised expression. Rose brought the tart to her mouth in nervous anticipation.
“…!”
The invigorating smell of apples and the bittersweet caramel brought Rose great joy. The color may have been cooked out of the apples until they turned translucent, but their crunch was alive and well.
Before such divine deliciousness, Rose put down her fork and prayed. God was here.
Harij briefly watched her reaction before moving his fork without saying anything.
Rose washed the dishes as soon as they finished eating. She was confident she would leave them lying around collecting mold if she waited for Harij to leave. Though it was extra work, she told herself washing dishes took less effort than the rest of life’s necessities as she forced her hands to move.
For that matter, she felt insecure serving Harij food on the dishes she used herself, especially if he planned to come more frequently. The few times she had served him so far, it was done on mismatched plates.
The dishes her grandmother used while she was still alive must have been somewhere in the hanging cabinet above the sink. Rose tried in vain to reach the cabinet. Instead, her brand-new viridian-blue robe got splashed with water. After wearing it once, she had realized it was just like every other cloth. Now she wouldn’t hesitate to wear it while making potions or working in the field.
Standing on tiptoe didn’t do the trick, either. So she gave up to search for a good size wooden box to stand on.
“What are you trying to get down?” Harij asked from directly behind her.
“Oh…don’t trouble yourself, sir. Please sit back down.”
As someone who rarely interacted with others, Rose wasn’t used to people showing her the kindness most took for granted. Experiencing just a simple taste of kindness from her crush made her heart melt. She didn’t want to fall even harder for him to the point she couldn’t dig herself out.
“Which is it? Just tell me.”
However, she was dealing with a nobleman. Rose had learned from her experience as a witch that things went faster if she just went along with her noble clients’ whims.
“…All right. Can I impose upon you to open the left cabinet door?”
It was easier said than done. The stuffed cabinet refused to open. It took a lot of effort to pry it open even a crack.
“Move. You might get hurt by the stuff that falls out when I wrench it open.”
“No, no, no. You might get hurt instead—”
“You think a few things falling from a cabinet could hurt me?”
He gave her an incredulous look, but every human was capable of being hurt. Besides, Harij’s handsome face was a work of art. Should his beautiful face get bruised, Rose might go wild with the desire to rub every salve in the house on it.
“Please…”
“All right, all right. I’ll open it carefully, so stand back a few steps.”
Why should I stand back if he’s going to be careful? Rose was a sensible witch and determined that any further questioning would only make them both become stubborn, so she stepped away from the cabinet.
Harij inserted his hand and a rod into the opening she had managed to make and moved back the stuff jammed against the door.
After he finally yanked open the cabinet door, a variety of items fell out. Harij caught everything with the nimble hands of a juggler.
“Bravo.”
“You should really learn how to clean.”
Rose chose to answer with silence since she couldn’t lie.
Harij carefully placed the outpour of objects on the floor and repeated his query. “So, which item did you need?”
“The one behind that jar— Oh, be sure not to touch that tiny bottle. Please make sure not to brush your hand against the paper bag beside it, either. It’s toward the back, to the left, near the corner, on the right…”
With his patience diminishing, Harij grimaced at her.
“You find it.”
“Wha?”
She was in the air before she could react. He held her up by the waist.
“Grab it.”
“O-Okay.”
Rose wasn’t sure if this was when she should turn red or blue, but she followed orders anyway. In a flurry, she rummaged through the cabinet until she found the wooden box in question. She conveyed that she had completed her mission by bobbing her head faster than a cat stalking its prey.
Harij softly lowered her to floor. With that came the end of the warmth she’d felt through her thick robe—radiating from Harij’s body. Relief washed over her.
“You still haven’t packed on meat, huh?”
What a way to check someone’s weight. That settled it: he might acknowledge her as a human being, but not as a woman. Nevertheless, Rose was a witch. Whether she was viewed as a woman didn’t matter. Retrieving plates from the box came first.
It doesn’t matter, dammit! Tears are obscuring my view!
She grabbed the wooden lid and ripped it off the box with a vengeance. Then she peeled off the cloth, revealing celadon porcelain plates without a speck of dust on them.
“Yes, I found them! So pretty.”
“The color is beautiful. It must’ve been made by a very skilled craftsman.”
“I was hoping—” to use these dishes during your next visit. Chills ran down her spine when she realized what she was about to say. That was the assumption of a fool who believed he would bring sweets again. Rose was disgusted with herself for harboring such hopes and fantasies.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing. Um, I just thought I should increase the tableware I have on hand to meet the recent surge in visitors I have been receiving.”
This is why I hate love. Why do I make such a fool out of myself?
Rose felt miserable. She shouldn’t have to make up such an excuse for his sake. Instead, she should’ve just shut her blabbering mouth. She pressed her lips together.
One second she thought Harij was staring down at her, and the next he flicked the corner of her hood. The hood slid off her head.
“Wha?” she squeaked.
“Come to think of it, I can’t see your face.”
“N-No, no, no, no! You’re not supposed to see my face!” she shouted, completely forgetting about her stroke of depression in the shock of the moment. “What do you think you are doing?” she accused, quickly grabbing the sides of her hood to yank it on. Except he grabbed her hands before she could.
“I told you that I can’t see your face, didn’t I?”
“A-And I told you that you are not supposed to, didn’t I?”
“You sell things to your customers with your face hidden?”
“Yes, I do. A witch’s secret potions are made of mysteries and secrets. B-Besides, um, right—it’s also a way for me to protect myself…”
“Then it’s unnecessary right now, isn’t it?”
More like, right now is the time when it’s the most necessary! Rose quickly turned away her face. The moment I told you my secret, you became the number one person I have to keep my face hidden from!
However, Rose couldn’t tell him that. She didn’t want to betray Harij’s image of her now that he seemed to finally trust her for whatever reason.
Harij tightened his grip when she delayed her answer. Rose curled her fingers into the hood and said, “Very well. Then please tell me exactly why it is better for me to show you my face.”
“You want to know why? Tell me: Does the rest of the world know about the witches’ secret that you accidentally spoke of to me?”
Rose whipped her head from side to side. He asked a preposterous question. She planned to take the secret to her grave. She hadn’t even spoken of it to Tien, who had known her for many years. She couldn’t speak for other witches, but she was fairly certain they kept the secret just as close to their hearts.
“Then doesn’t that make me the only person you can speak to with your face shown?”
Rose was petrified. Harij had caught her so entirely off guard that she gaped up at him.
“Aren’t I the only person to whom you can honestly say ‘I don’t want to say anything because it will be a lie’ when that expression shows up on your face?”
Rose pressed her lips into a straight line until her teeth cut into them. Otherwise, she might let something strange slip.
It would have been so much better if his reason was merely along the lines of it being rude for her to talk to him while keeping her face hidden. Then Rose wouldn’t have much to fear even if she lost her hood.
Never in her wildest dreams had she thought his reason would be for her sake. Harij was trying to become the one person she could truly talk to after losing her mother and grandmother—the sole people who shared her secret.
Is that why he’s coming here for no particular reason?
He was trying to take responsibility for the secret he accidentally became privy to, to show Rose kindness.
Finally, Rose dropped her hood and offered a thin, wry smile.
“…It has been a long time since I have spoken to someone face-to-face. I might say or express something rude…”
She was incapable of rejecting Harij’s kindness. Looking down at her smile, he gave a satisfied nod.
“Your face is as cute as I thought.”
“…As I thought, I can’t go through with this.”
Rose pulled her hood back up—and kept pulling on it until the cloth covered well past her chin. Her heart was pounding so hard she thought she would die from it blowing up.
She had read in a book somewhere about a curse in a distant world that went something like “Blow Up and Die, Happy People!” Surely, this curse referred to the near-death experience she was having.
“Sorry! My nieces have recently been on my case about calling them cute as well. I won’t say it again.”
“Too late. This hood isn’t coming off ever again.”
“Lady Witch, please!”
Bastard. Stringing a line of black curses in her heart, Rose waited forever for it to settle down.
∴ ∵ ∴
GRAINS of sand spilled through the neck of the hourglass, dancing into the glass below. Spices twirled on top of the black tea brewing in the pot.
“Just a spoonful of orange and lemon, then another. Masala, about half as tall as the second rock in the southern part of the garden. Add half that amount in cinnamon. Spin it round and round in the milk. How much do you need? This much is what you need. That’s right, my sweet. Just enough for a whale to sleep. Top it off with an extra-sweet sugar heap.”
Black pepper, cardamom, cinnamon, clove, orange peel, lemon peel, ginger. This song always helped Rose recall her grandmother’s secret masala chai recipe. She smelled the black tea—both the spiced aroma and the song were nostalgic.
For the last several years, Rose only used the stove for potion-making, but she remembered all the special treats her grandmother made on it when she was still alive.
Rose strained the spices and poured the exact same amount into two cups.
“It’s ready.”
Rose turned around, her pale-pink hair spreading out like a cloak in the wind, to bring the cups to the table. Someone was already seated there waiting for her.
Harij had come the next day, too, as promised. At this rate, he was sure to come the following day as well.
Rose couldn’t very well send him on his way after she’d heard his reason for frequently visiting this part of the woods.
She kept her hood off when she was alone with Harij. Nervousness over her expressions being on full display intermingled with a shy giddiness she could only assume people felt when they shook hands with a friend in town to reconfirm that friendship.
As much as she wanted to keep her hood on, she couldn’t stop now—not after seeing the pleased look on Harij’s face every time she took it off, like a boy delighted that his dog fetched the ball he threw.
Harij shut the book he was reading. Two celadon plates sat on top of the table. Rose didn’t have to feel embarrassed by what she put out now thanks to the wooden box containing several dishes with the same pattern.
Today, he brought her fluffy white bread and apple jam. The glistening jam in the jar had a sweet and tart scent that was appetizing even during the hot summer.
Harij raised the teacup to his mouth, took in the smell, and put his lips on the rim.
“It has an interesting aroma. Doesn’t taste bad for something I’m trying for the first time. Tastes good with the apple jam, too.” His appraisal surprised her. To Rose, this was what tea tasted like.
“This is your first time with this flavor? Then what does tea normally taste like?”
“You generally enjoy just the tea leaves.”
“You don’t add any spices to it?”
“Nope. I’ve also never seen tea brewed in a pot before, either. I think it will go well with milk. I’ll bring some the next chance I get.”
Rose couldn’t imagine what tea with milk and without spices would taste like.
Harij expanded Rose’s small world in many ways, but he never devalued or denied her customs. She could tell he was brought up well. Being privileged gives one room to be open-minded.
Rose sank her teeth into the jam-covered bread. It was as fluffy as she hoped, and even the scent reaching her nose was scrumptious. The refreshing sweetness of apples packed every bite with a pulpy crunch.
“If you enjoy food so much, why do you stick to a diet of lettuce? Wouldn’t you rather have a proper meal?” Harij asked, exasperated. Rose couldn’t answer because her mouth was full of bread. “Is it because most of your garden is taken up by medicinal plants?”
Cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk, Rose bobbed her head.
“What do you usually make? You don’t spend all your time brewing questionable potions, right?”
This time he gave her a moment to chew and swallow. So says the man who came here seeking one of those questionable potions. Rose tamped down her desire to sulk.
“I also use my herbs to make medicines you would be familiar with. Some of my most common concoctions are Potion for Bruises; Potion for When a Foreign Object Enters the Eye; Potion for Dry, Tingling Skin; Potion for after Face Powder Removal; Leave-In Potion for the Hair; Potion for Rejuvenation; Potion for Keeping Insects Away; and so on…”
There was also the “oils that will make you popular with the ladies if you use it to wash under your arms,” but she didn’t tell Harij. She might cry if he asked for one.
“You make some surprisingly normal things… Some of those are even used by the knights.”
“I suppose so.”
Rose merely made what was ordered. She left wholesale distribution to Tien, which was why she had no control over what went where. Maybe, just maybe, some of her potions were used to heal Harij’s wounds. She would be delighted if they did.
“So why in the world is lettuce planted in a garden with nothing but herbs? Can lettuce be used for potion-making, too?”
“I can use it in medicines to bring down fevers, but it’s rarely incorporated into a witch’s secret potions. I am growing lettuce because my grandmother instructed me to. Rare herbs you can’t get anywhere else grow in my garden as well, so my grandmother often told me to ‘preserve the field no matter what happens.’”
Rose also explained that her grandmother had been her teacher as well.
“I see,” Harij muttered thoughtfully, placing the teacup on the table. “She must have been worried about how you would fare after she passed on, Lady Witch.”
“I beg your pardon?” she asked, looking for clarification. Her grandmother used to carp on her incessantly about the proper way to grow herbs, but Rose didn’t see how that implied worry on the older witch’s part.
“You don’t have any other family, right?”
“I don’t. My mother seems to have died when I was young, and that’s all I know about her, really. I have no idea whether I have a father or siblings.”
“You might not know about siblings, but you have to have had a father…”
Rose understood how humans came into this world, but it had really never been a topic of conversation. She knew so little about her biological father that if someone told her that she had been conceived after her mother spent some time inside a tree hollow, she might just believe it because then she would know something.
“Then that is all the more reason for your grandmother to worry about leaving you alone. And she was right to be, because as much as you thoroughly enjoy food, you don’t give it the time of day.”
“Does it really look that bad to you…? I have been eating a proper three meals a day of lettuce.”
“I don’t think you can call eating lettuce a proper meal, but…even that lettuce diet is within your grandmother’s plans for you.”
“How?”
“Your grandmother had a good grasp on your personality, Lady Witch. By telling you it’s for potion-making, you tended to the lettuce, even if you didn’t want to, right? It would be a waste not to eat what you grew when it’s not used in potions.”
Rose had never thought of it that way.
There was a time, right after her grandmother passed away, that Rose stood at the stove. But she didn’t think the food she cooked was particularly tasty and ended up developing a habit of skipping meals. She found cooking to be so tedious she even created a Potion for Removing Hunger.
Then she had to take care of the field, which meant watering it early in the morning and staying exposed to the sun for hours while pulling weeds. Rose couldn’t enjoy a lazy schedule of sleeping when the sun rose and waking when it set because the lettuce and herbs would wither. Some plants were more delicate than others and had to be given extra care or they would die overnight.
Rose had zero confidence she would have listened if her grandmother had only instructed her to “wake up at a decent time” and “eat a proper meal.”
She was embarrassed—and filled with a heartwarming joy—that Harij realized how much her grandmother worried about her without ever meeting the older woman, when Rose herself had never realized it.
Her grandmother cared about her so deeply she had planned ahead for the time she would be gone. Learning about the depth of her grandmother’s love brought Rose incredible happiness.
And she deduced that Harij realized her grandmother’s unique way of showing love because he was a similar type.
“…I really am in love.”
“I knew you would love it. Eat more.” Harij happily held out a slice of bread. Did he think she was talking about the food? Rose accepted the slice coated in a thick layer of apple jam. “Delicious, isn’t it?”
Boundless kindness glimmered in Harij’s eyes. Maybe he was worried about making Rose emotional after talking about her grandmother.
“Want another slice?”
“After I eat this one.”
“Okay,” he said, smearing jam onto another piece of bread.
Rose munched on it.
“Just a spoonful of jam, and then another… Your song is pretty catchy. Just enough for a what to sleep?” As he spread the jam, Harij sang the same song Rose had while making tea.
“For a whale to sleep. That said, I don’t know how long whales sleep for, but by the time I'm finished singing, I’ve brewed a tea that tastes just like how my grandmother used to make it.”
The song was a guide on how to brew tea, including what ingredients and how much of each to put in, how much to grind, and how long to boil. Rose loved listening to this song with the sound of boiling water.
“So then your grandmother taught you this song—”
“No way. She was not the singing type.”
After she said that, it dawned upon her. If not her grandmother, then who could have taught her this song? Who had sung it over and over again to the point Rose remembered it word for word?
“So you do remember something about your mother!”
Her nonexistent father and siblings were out of the question. So if it wasn’t her grandmother, that only left her mother.
Rose scowled hard to hide the tears emerging in her eyes. Hiding her expression was a complete failure this time. Harij laughed when he saw her scrunched-up face.
“Do you always dodge questions you don’t like with a scowl?”
All this time, Rose had always concealed everything—her expressions, emotions, and the truth—behind a stern face. Pushing people away kept her safe. She had it burned into her psyche that only unthinkable horrors awaited should the magicless discover that witches lived and breathed by the truth.
But he just reminded her that she could no longer fully deceive him. And that it was because he had this special knowledge of her circumstances that he was trying to become someone she could talk to. In which case, she didn’t have to bottle it up anymore. She couldn’t. Her lips trembled and she sniffled. She ripped a chunk off the bread with her teeth and munched on it.
In this moment, Rose tasted immeasurable joy.