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THE loud tong-tong-tong of the cowbell announced a visitor.
“Welcome. Did you bring what I asked?”
Darkness had fallen behind Harij, who had set off the rattling cowbell above the door. The forest was creepy enough at night that even Rose, who had been born and raised there, feared it.
“Please come in. Let me take your things for you.”
Rose took the lantern Harij carried, then urged him to hand over his sword next, earning a fierce scowl from her guest. He likely didn’t want to be defenseless in the presence of a mysterious witch.
Nevertheless, Rose remained calm in the face of his pointed glare. As a witch, she always made a point of not letting her emotions show.
Harij grudgingly removed his overcoat, unbuckled the leather sword belt around his waist, and removed the scabbard.
Rose stole a glance at Harij’s face while accepting his things. She already knew of his beauty, but seeing his handsome face nearly drew a sigh of awe from her. Under his taut but elegantly slanted brows, almond-shaped eyes glinted. His ultramarine eyes glistened like the surface of the lake on a snowy day. The tips of his shapely ears were tinged pink from the cold night air. Ashen locks covered those ears as if to protect them.
His face, beautiful as a statue carved by the best sculptor in the kingdom, made her weak in the knees. Unfortunately, irritation was the only expression to grace his features thus far.
Rose hung his heavy sword and overcoat on the coatrack. She then placed his lit lantern on top of the fireplace.
Harij slipped inside the Witch’s abode and closed the door behind him. This was the seldom-visited Witch’s hermitage, where those who had no business never dropped by.
Deep inside the forest located on the outskirts of the royal capital, a hovel sat alone on a small island in the middle of a lake. The lake was like a giant puddle surrounded by a large forest. In spring, colorful flowers bloomed. In summer, the surroundings were covered in greenery. In autumn, the trees turned a fiery red. And in winter, pure-white snow carpeted the lake.
The hovel was built in secret, in a place away from civilization, so beasts visited more frequently than people, and even they rarely ventured across the lake to see her.
Only a small boat connected the hermitage to the forest. The dinghy had been in use since her grandmother’s time and was moored with a rope tied around the stake at the dock jutting out from the forest side. There wasn’t anything as fancy as a boatman hanging around to take people out, so anyone who wished to make a request of the Witch had to row out to her themselves.
Only the tiny shack that teetered on the edge of being blown away and a simple garden maintainable by a single woman existed on the island in the middle of the lake.
Rose, the woman known as the Witch of the Lake, lived out there all alone.
She was a witch. Her mother was a witch; thus, she was born a witch.
She had lived alone with her grandmother since she lost her mother at an early age. Her grandmother passed away four years ago, leaving Rose completely alone. The hovel where they lived together was so cramped it didn’t feel big even after it was just her.
The interior, illuminated by small lamps, was always dim, and the cauldron used to brew potions occupied most of the floor space. The walls were almost entirely stacked with storage cabinets. Books were messily crammed into the mismatched shelves, with herbs and powder satchels bursting from the gaps.
In addition to cleaning tools such as brooms and mops, strange staves that served unknown purposes and scrolls bent at the top were stuffed into the vases placed randomly around the room.
The floor was in an even worse state, for it was so littered with objects, visitors had to watch their step. Nothing was more eerie than the blackened carpet that looked ominously similar to old bloodstains.
Spices, herbs, furs, dried foods, and other essential items for making potions hung from the ceiling, permeating the room with a heavy, astringent smell. Thus, the only space left for guests consisted of a small table and a simple wooden chair right by the entrance. Of course, the table had long since been transformed into another storage space with no tablecloth or place to put down a cup.
“Let me check what you brought.” Rose held out both hands.
Harij removed the leather bag from his belt, his condescending eyes never letting go of the Witch.
“You wanted the liver of a fire rat intoxicated from the ultrasonic waves of a muffler bat, right?”
Rose accepted the soiled bag without cringing. Cluttered with books and herbs, the table had no space left to lay out the contents. She forced the objects to the side with a hard push to make room for the ingredients.
Hard lines formed in Harij’s shadowed brow.
Once a suitable amount of space was made, Rose placed a lit lamp there. Orange light illuminated the table. She carefully unfurled the bag.
“Yes, this is what I require. It appears as though you paid extra care not to harm the liver during the skinning process. I haven’t seen the organs left in such impeccable shape in a long time.”
With a veiled expression, Rose closely examined the organ that might make a young lady of marriageable age faint to hear the process of its removal, then raised her impassive gaze to the client.
Harij nodded in an effort to remain calm.
“Now you can finally—”
“Yes, I can finally ask you for the next ingredient. Next I need…”
“You need MORE?!”
Startled by the loud voice, Rose jumped about three fingers high into the air. Her loose robe puffed out like a blanket in the wind. Piles of dust kicked up off the floor.
“How many times have you sent me out already? Last time you wanted the pollen of a flower that only blooms on the edge of a certain precipitous cliffside. Before that, you asked for the first drop of rain. The time before that, it was the root of a plant that lets out a death cry. Each ingredient takes an immense amount of time to acquire, and yet you refuse to ask me for more than one at a time. Capital punishment would befall a royal pharmacist who did business like you!”
Until now, Harij had patiently collected the ingredients, but his patience had run out.
He took an angry step toward her. In response, Rose tugged the hood further over her face.
The already-petite witch looked even smaller when she shrunk down. Seeing her trembling inside her baggy robes must have struck Harij with guilt, for he quickly knelt before her.
“…Sorry for raising my voice.”
“Don’t be. It was dazzling…”
“Huh?”
“Your face is too handsome.”
Harij’s face—now up close—was too brilliant for Rose to gaze upon. She needed to squint. His face was so mesmerizing it looked like it was sparkling. Of course, she knew it was just the lamplight illuminating the floating dust particles that caused the effect.
“…What are you talking about?” His prior anger was nowhere to be seen as exasperation washed it away.
Oh, this expression of his is nice, too, Rose thought as she peered out from under her hood.
What type of people request love potions?
Perhaps they have no confidence in themselves. Maybe their love interest is unobtainable or someone who already has a partner. Whatever the circumstances, the one indisputable fact is that they have “someone they want to make fall in love with them.”
Rose’s one-sided crush had suddenly paid a visit to her home. He came asking her to make him a love potion.
Not only did Harij not know about Rose’s feelings for him, but he obviously didn’t even know she existed. After all, their relationship was nothing more than her falling in love with the man at first sight during a visit to the city. The only thing that a recluse witch who wasn’t even on his radar until now could do was lengthen the time they had together before giving him the potion.
She didn’t dare dream of him reciprocating her feelings. All she wanted was to take up a small place in his memories.
A little slyness on her side was a fair trade. As a human, she deserved praise for not just dumping a love potion on his head the moment they met. It made her a failure of a witch, though.
“The next ingredient is the antenna of the rainbow long-horned grasshopper. Make sure you pluck it off on the night of a full moon.”
“…Wasn’t there just a full moon last week?”
“Indeed, there was.” Rose nodded as if he just told her the sky was blue.
Thanks to the full moon only appearing once a month, she just earned herself almost a whole month before he could obtain the next ingredient.
“I don’t have that much time…”
A blue line bulged from Harij’s temple. It was a thick vein. If she wasn’t careful, she might become captivated by its beauty.
Even the sheltered witch knew he didn’t have a lot of free time.
Harij Azm was a royal knight who worked in the magnificent palace that was visible even from the forest on the capital’s outskirts. He was an S-class elite knight. Through Rose’s research, she learned that his father was even a member of the aristocracy. Under normal circumstances, he was not the type of person to secretly frequent a hovel like hers. And that was precisely why Rose was so surprised by his first visit.
“I see… Well, not much we can do about your lack of time, is there? How unfortunate.” Disappointment turned down her lips, making her expression match her words.
Harij exhaled an extra-pathetic sigh as if he’d picked up on her unsaid “This potion won’t be finished unless you prepare the ingredients, Mr. Client” and her stout refusal to arrange for the ingredients herself. His sigh spoke volumes about how much he wanted the love potion no matter the time, money, or effort it took to obtain.
“Oh, what a waste!” Rose cried out in a loud voice, rather than becoming depressed about how badly he wanted a love potion. “Please be sure to tell me the next time you are going to sigh. A beautiful man’s sighs are a prime ingredient in potion-making.”
“I’ll never tell you!”
An angry shout rang through the Witch’s abode. Emotion hidden from her face, Rose watched a displeased Harij storm from her dwelling.