The dark underground prison was filled with the peculiar fishy smell of moss and mold.

Despite having worked here for a long time, the guard wrinkled his nose at the smell he could never get used to, and looked at the woman occupying the innermost cell.

Her thick silvery hair, like melted moonlight, flowed carelessly down to her chest.

Snow-white clean skin and a straight nose. Small red lips and clear eyes that seemed to hold the sea.

The woman was mysterious and beautiful like a fairy from a fairy tale.

Though her attire was somewhat shabby, it couldn’t hide her beautiful appearance.

“Snap out of it!”

As the guard stood half-dazed, enchanted by the woman, his fellow guard elbowed him hard in the side.

“Don’t get bewitched by the witch! If you do, you’ll be burned at the stake as an accomplice!”

“Ah, sorry. She was so pretty, I couldn’t help it…”

“That’s the typical method of witches. They bewitch you with their looks, then use black magic to turn you into a puppet.”

Right. The guard sympathized with his colleague’s words and glared at the witch.

“Speaking of that witch. I heard she claimed to be Olben’s daughter?”

“That’s right. Tsk tsk. No matter how desperate, to tell such an absurd lie.”

“I know. Everyone in the village knows that Olben’s daughter died long ago.”

A small territory of not even 100 households.

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that people knew the number of spoons their neighbors used, so well did the villagers know each other.

So when a woman they had never seen before suddenly appeared claiming to be the daughter of Olben, who had lived in this village for over 20 years, it was absurd.

“Still, she seemed to have done some research. She knew the name of Olben’s dead daughter.”

“Right. What was that daughter’s name again?”

“It was Irene.”

Regardless of what the guards were chattering about, the woman who had her face buried between her knees, Irene, lifted her head and looked at the guards when she heard her name.

“A-ahem. What’s for lunch today?”

“W-well. Ah, I’m hungry.”

The guards were startled when their eyes met hers and made excuses before quickly leaving the prison.

Left alone, Irene looked down at the moss-covered floor with slightly unfocused eyes.

“I am that person’s daughter, but…”

She hadn’t wished for it either.

When she was born, she happened to be that person’s daughter, and because of that, she had to call him father even though she didn’t want to.

Yet the villagers unanimously said there was no way she could be Olben’s daughter.

She could understand why they said that.

The villagers had never seen Irene before, not even once.

It was the same for Irene.

Having stayed at home all her life since birth, she had never met anyone except her parents.

So she understood why they didn’t know her, but that wasn’t all.

For instance, the claim that she was the culprit who killed Olben and his wife and set fire to the village.

She also couldn’t accept that she was a witch because of this.

It wasn’t that she was blindly denying it because she didn’t want to be burned at the stake, but it really wasn’t something she had done.

She didn’t know who had set fire to the territory and killed Olben, but she knew who had killed Olben’s wife, her mother.

It was Olben, that man.

Her mother had tried to stop him when he was drunk and violent, and had hit her head on the corner of a table, closing her eyes in vain.

Seeing that, I… what did I do?

Irene blinked slowly as she tried to recall her memories, but nothing came to mind.

After confirming her mother’s death, she lost consciousness.

When she regained consciousness, she was walking aimlessly through the flames.

Then she was discovered by the villagers, accused of being a witch, and dragged to prison.

‘I’m going to die soon.’

Because witches were always burned at the stake.

Her long eyelashes became moist.

Soon, as tears flowed down her cheeks, she covered her face with both hands.

Dying was scary and frightening, but if there was any consolation, it was that she could see her mother again when she died.

‘And I won’t have to suffer anymore.’

While Irene felt relieved by this fact, she was saddened that she had to find comfort in such things, and alternated between laughing and crying like someone who had lost their mind.

*

To burn a witch at the stake, a sacred flame managed by the temple was needed.

Baron Silas sent a servant to the temple to borrow that flame.

With the preparations for the burning complete, all that was left was to wait for the servant to return with the flame.

However, because of an unexpected visitor, Baron Silas was sweating so much he felt like his back was crying.

Not only was his shirt damp, but he was wiping away cold sweat that even wet what little hair he had left as he looked at Kalos sitting across from him.

Kalos Dun Esper.

Having a middle name meant he was of noble status, and indeed, Kalos was the head of the Esper family, the unrivaled ruler of the North whom even the imperial family dared not touch, and the only Grand Duke.

It was natural to be nervous when faced with such an impressive figure. His head bowed involuntarily.

Meanwhile, the reason he kept stealing glances at Kalos’s face was because his appearance was so charming that it caught the eye of everyone, regardless of age or gender.

Jet-black hair like darkness itself had been applied, and dark eyebrows. Purple eyes reminiscent of amethysts and a straight nose bridge. Thin, red lips.

He was a handsome man who suited the expression ‘beautiful’ more than ‘good-looking’.

In social circles, it was said that when God molded him, He bestowed all the beauty in the world upon him.

However, because of the overwhelming aura that made him difficult to approach, everyone just looked at him like a pie in the sky, unable to easily approach.

Kalos’s purple eyes were also one of the reasons people couldn’t easily approach him.

Purple was commonly considered the color of demons and was seen as ominous.

But since the Grand Duke of Esper had purple eyes, there were rumors circulating secretly that demon blood might flow in his veins.

Even if that wasn’t the case, there were terrifying rumors attached to him like a tail – that he would cut down anyone who provoked his temper with a single sword, even if it was a newborn baby, or that he enjoyed eating human flesh.

Even so, becoming friends with Kalos meant a guaranteed promotion to the central government, so Baron Silas couldn’t afford to miss this opportunity.

“What brings you to visit this place, Your Excellency?”

Whatever he wanted, I would gladly give it all.

Baron Silas, who had made such a resolve…

“I heard a witch has appeared in this village. I want to see that witch.”

Was startled by Kalos’s subsequent words and opened his eyes wide.

Kalos tilted his head slightly. Discomfort swirled in his purple eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing. I’ll bring that witch right away.”

Baron Silas ordered his servants to bring the witch while inwardly laughing hollowly.

Originally, witches were supposed to be burned at the stake as soon as they were discovered, but he had heard rumors that they were sometimes used for the amusement of nobles.

Kalos probably said he wanted to see the witch for that purpose.

Anyway, his taste was as unusual as his fame, but it was actually a good thing for him.

After all, he could use the witch he was going to kill anyway to gain Kalos’s favor.

“The weather seems to be getting hotter, but in the North…”

Baron Silas engaged in conversation on various topics until the witch arrived, harboring ambitious plans.

“……”

However, Kalos only looked out the window, treating Baron Silas as if he didn’t exist, showing no reaction at all.

Embarrassed, Baron Silas closed his mouth, and a quiet, heavy silence fell over the reception room.

The baron wanted to leave immediately, but since his counterpart was a grand duke, he couldn’t do that and just fiddled with his teacup.

It was a moment when he wished for the witch who had wreaked havoc on his territory.

How much time had passed like that?

Knock knock−.

“My lord. We have brought the witch.”

“Oh! Yes! Come in quickly!”

Baron Silas brightened up and jumped to his feet when the person he had been waiting for arrived.

Kalos’s gaze, which had been fixed on the window, also shifted to the door.

Creaking, the door opened and Irene, wearing shackles and handcuffs and dressed shabbily, was led in by the guards.

“This woman is the witch.”

Baron Silas, standing next to her, spoke as if introducing a product.

However, Kalos still showed no particular reaction and just stared at Irene blankly.

“Hurry up and greet His Excellency the Grand Duke properly!”

Baron Silas, feeling awkward, urged Irene needlessly.

“…!”

Irene, who had finally raised her head, froze in shock when her eyes met Kalos’s directly.

A chill of unknown origin rose from her toes, her mouth went dry, and cold sweat formed in her palms.

No. I’m scared. I have to run away.

Irene’s face turned pale white as she faced a being more terrifying than death.

On the other hand, a satisfied smile spread across Kalos’s lips.

It was just for a moment, so no one saw that smile.

Kalos, who was leaning back against the sofa like a satiated predator, pointed with his chin at the sofa where Baron Silas had been sitting.

“Sit.”

Baron Silas thought he was talking to him and was about to sit down, but as soon as his bottom touched the seat, a stern command fell.

“Who told you to sit?”

“I-I’m sorry!”

Baron Silas got up again, startled.

Kalos glanced at the baron as if annoyed, then looked at Irene.

“Sit.”

Only then did the baron and guards realize he was talking to her and looked at Irene.

Irene’s neck shrank like a turtle’s, scared not only by the grand duke’s presence but also by everyone’s gaze focused on her.

“I said sit.”

It was already the third command.

Baron Silas didn’t like the idea of seating the witch on the sofa, but since the grand duke said so, he had no choice but to tell the guards to seat the witch immediately.

The guards forcibly sat Irene on the sofa.

Facing the grand duke at close range, Irene bowed her head deeply, tightly grasping her trembling hands.

“What’s your name?”

A voice flowed out, neither kind nor harsh, but indifferent.

However, Irene, still afraid of Kalos, couldn’t say anything and kept her mouth tightly shut like a clam.

“His Excellency is asking for your name, what are you doing not answering!”

Then Baron Silas scolded her harshly, his eyes wide and fierce.

Irene swallowed dryly and opened her heavy mouth with difficulty.

“My name is… Irene.”

“Irene.”

Kalos recited her name a few times as if savoring it, then smiled, smoothly raising the corners of his lips.

“I am Kalos Dun Esper. I look forward to our future together.”

It was a dazzlingly beautiful yet chilling smile.