70. The Witch’s Love Potion (4)
“—enough already! It doesn’t matter even if you believe in this Witch! The harm has already done and it’s been caused by none other than this potion!”
As if desperate to end the entire exchange, Yashm screams while taking out a small vial from his bosom.
Harij gazes at the vial.
“—does that vial still have some of its content?”
“Does it matter?”
Yashm shoots down Harij’s question as if he’s a fool.
“Let Roze examine it. Roze knows everything about potions.”
“Everything… you’re exaggerating, Harij-san…”
“Oi, and for what purpose is that?! Giving this potion to the Witch is akin to giving a sword to a swordsman!”
“Which is my point. Why not ask the expert? Or do you want to stay here and keep watch until morning?”
Yashm frowns and reluctantly hands the vial to Harij.
Harij then presents it to Roze.
When Roze receives the vial, she opens its lid. Yashm stares at her with absolute contempt.
Jones, who’s been standing behind Yashm the entire time, places his hand on top of his sword and watches Roze.
She shakes the vial, fans it, and smells it.
Roze looks at the potion in awe.
Roze remembers—she recognizes the smell of that potion.
“Did you discover something?”
Harij asks in anticipation.
But, what flows into Roze’s heart is a deep sadness.
“…Witch’s Secret Potions require different procedures and materials, depending on the witch. Because the witch will have to adjust the mix little by little in accordance to place and era she lives in…”
“So what? Are you saying that this potion wasn’t made by you, but another witch?”
At Yashm’s words, Roze frowns.
Upon hearing Tien’s story regarding the “Witch’s Love Potion (counterfeit)”, Roze hadn’t believed for even a second that it was a ‘Witch’s Secret Potion’.
But, if this smell is telling the truth—
“This potion smells very similar to one I made.”
“—just admit it, you’re the culprit!”
To Yashm who rushes her, Roze shakes her head.
“In fact, no. I can’t produce the same smelling potion twice—that is, unless I actually intent on replicating a previous potion.”
Just like no animal or plan is exactly the same, each potion she makes is slightly different, even though they are in essence, the same. The witches understand, manipulate, extract the truth, and transform it all into magic.
Roze stares at the content of the vial.
“—I remember, who sold a potion with this same scent.”
I don’t want to believe it.
Roze stares at Harij.
Harij, who is listening with a dubious face, doesn’t understand why she suddenly gazes at him.
However, when he realizes that Roze isn’t asking for his help, he thinks deeply—before opening his eyes.
A stunned voice leaks from Harij’s mouth.
“What? What are you…”
When Yashm tries to ask Harij, however, a sound comes from behind him.
All four people in the room shake their shoulders. The only door in the room is suddenly knocked on.
No one should have any business here other than them… Yashm asks suspiciously.
“Brother? It’s me.”
The voice is as beautiful as the song of an insect on an autumn night.
Soon enough, Yashm’s face is dyed in the color of surprise.
It’s the name of the fourth princess of Marjan.
Harij takes the vial from Roze’s hand. Despite the more surprised Roze, Harij moves in a flurry.
Without Roze’s knowledge, it seems that he has communicated with others through eye contact alone.
Even if Harij moves freely, Yashm not once calls out to him. Rather, it’s as if he’s buying time.
“What are you doing here?”
“Mother’s ‘Witch Tower’ is unusually open, hence why I came to visit. This opportunity is quite rare, you know.”
The voice sounds confident.
After all, the Princess can’t be stopped by the knight guarding the tower below.
Roze is listening to the conversation between Yashm and Lulu, and becomes distracted.
Harij, after crouching beside the chair where Roze was sitting earlier, grabs Roze’s waist.
Roze stares at Harij. He nods subtly at her.
“Keep silent. Don’t make any voice.”
Mouth? Voice? Roze does as she told and covers her mouth with both hands.
That is when—
—a floating sensation that Roze has never experienced before.
She thinks she’s hallucinating—turns out she isn’t.
It’s impossible for a human to fly in the sky, unless it’s an ancient witch.
Nevertheless, her robe flaps in the air, making loud noises.
Roze is falling from the sky.
Heading down, towards the ground—she has been thrown out of the tower window.
She can’t even feel fear anymore.
A deep blue sky spreads in front of Roze as she falls upside down from her back.
—my life’s over.
Roze is ready for her last moment when she’s pulled by something. Tthus ends her gliding—
—however, even after she stretches her body, she doesn’t feel any pain.
“You endured it well.”
Roze, with her limbs still in midair, looks sideways, shaking.
Roze can’t see anything but the sky, but it seems that she hasn’t fallen alone.
When she turns around, Harij is still hugging her.
He must have jumped out of the window while hugging Roze. Harij’s body is tied to a rope, perhaps prepared for once the chance to escape arose.
She doesn’t have the courage to look up, but he seems to have attached the end of the rope to the chair’s leg earlier.
It seems that Harij stopped the fall by pulling the rope. She doesn’t want to think about how his palm must look like after doing that.
Harij, with experienced movements, sticks one of his legs towards the tower. Then, holding the rope with one hand, he looks at the top of the tower.
Roze is pleading for Harij’s help. Even if the rope is fairly long, she’s still floating in midair.
However, Roze’s plea is in vain. Harij seems bitter.
“—this is bad.”
‘It’s breaking.’ Such are the ominous words that reach Roze’s ears.
***T/N: Summary of this chapter: “Prince Yasshole tried to get in the way of our marriage, but worry not, we get to skydive even before our ceremony or honey moon even begun.”