TMBIPYMEN Chapter 18

Yustar's eyes widened slightly at Layla's question. For Layla, she couldn't understand why he reacted that way... and the brief moment waiting for an answer felt as long as several years.

After heavy silence—for Layla alone—passed, Yustar suddenly burst into laughter. His voice sounded strangely refreshing.

"Was that the first thing you wanted to ask?"

Layla stared at him with wide eyes.

"Of course. Well, there were many other candidates. But... His Highness the King's Brother? You, truly?"

Yustar wore a leisurely smile like a prankster who'd set a trap, propping his chin at an angle.

"Yes. Let me introduce myself properly, Miss Layla. My name is Yustar Haienmorik. I am the younger brother of the King of Sierrow and also the Commander-in-Chief of Tentinella headquarters. This is information you deduced earlier, but I worried you'd forgotten from shock, so I'll tell you once more."

Haienmorik. Come to think of it, Layla remembered that when he'd spoken his name, he hadn't mentioned his surname. Even if he had, whether she would have noticed immediately aside...

Yustar watched Layla's expression changing moment by moment with apparent amusement before speaking.

"I heard witches are very inexpressive, but you don't seem that way."

Layla answered.

"Well, maybe I'm a strange one. Mother sometimes told me... No, she didn't speak it. She thought it, but somehow I could tell. Though I wasn't raised hated, whenever I noticed things like that, somehow... I felt like I wasn't born from my mother's body."

"Then? Did your mother discover you in the middle of a field full of chicory? Like in old tales?"

"Well, maybe so. Anyway, my mother wasn't even a medium... Though she was an excellent witch."

She wore a thoughtful expression for a moment, then suddenly as if remembering, looked down at the unfamiliar dress she was wearing.

"Why did you make me wear this?"

"Are you asking from curiosity or accusation?"

"Half and half."

Yustar smiled, eyes gleaming. For a moment, Layla thought he might be quite an aggressive man.

It wasn't a conclusion based on logic or long observation. Like a swung blade cutting past her body, it was a sensation that suddenly swept through her mind.

Yustar, switching hands to prop his chin on the opposite side, asked a question instead of answering hers.

"Don't you like the dress?"

Layla said,

"It's not that I dislike it. Just... I've never worn anything like this so it's awkward, and also it doesn't seem like something I should wear."

"People who should and shouldn't wear dresses aren't predetermined. Right? If you're born nobility you're given the right to wear dresses, and if you're born common you're obligated to wear only cotton clothes your whole life? That's not how it is."

"That's true, but what I meant was..."

Before she could finish, Yustar nodded in agreement.

"I know what you want to say, Layla. But in principle, that's how it is. You can wear any clothes and remember that. From now on too."

"Once I leave here, I'll never wear anything like this again."

Yustar smiled enigmatically.

"That's uncertain. Don't make guarantees."

Layla didn't listen closely to his words. She simply thought that since she seemed too awkward, he was offering plain comfort that there was no need to be.

If she'd known earlier that this was a completely mistaken thought, would something have changed? Even afterward, there were times when Layla would vividly recall this day—the day she first set foot in Sierrow royal palace—as if it were just yesterday. Even the conversation she'd had with Yustar...

But that is a matter for the distant future.

Yustar suddenly threw his head back. His long hair cascaded downward, rippling softly.

His platinum hair, enchanting enough to mesmerize, swayed like willow branches meeting wind. His posture leaning comfortably against the backrest suited his slightly loosened clothing perfectly.

He truly is the King's Brother. Layla thought. The royal palace was a space that burdened people by name alone, but for Yustar, this place was home.

This place would never burn or crumble and disappear. No matter what happened.

"What's wrong?"

Seeing Layla's expression darken, Yustar straightened and asked. She raised her red eyes slightly, then sighed briefly.

"Nothing. I was thinking of home for a moment. Though only ashes remain."

Yustar looked at her with a sympathetic expression.

"I'm sorry. Sincerely. But... I'll do something about it somehow. I promise."

"How? Will you build me a new house?"

"If you want it, of course I will. Even right now. I can build you a sturdier, better house. Do you want that?"

This time Layla threw her head back. A bitter laugh escaped. Was it because he and she were too different? Because of that tremendous difference she couldn't even dare comprehend? She felt hollow.

Fiddling with the ends of her hair, Layla said,

"Thank you for the offer, but that's not the problem right now. And even if you build a new house... Even if you build a castle, it couldn't be the same as my lost home. Because that was a place where countless witches lived, including me. My mother and grandmother and... Perhaps the first witch built that house. It was hundreds of years ago, so if that's true, it would be tremendous."

The first witch. It was a story passed down like an old folk tale in the Kingdom of Sierrow.

Hundreds of years ago, a woman searching for the perfect husband summoned a demon to make a wish. But that demon was so attractive that she ended up having relations with him, and through that became the first witch.

According to the story, she bore a daughter, and that daughter was also a witch. However, the daughter didn't summon a demon to have children. Seducing a human man was easier and simpler.

"That's why everyone hates witches. Without even being able to distinguish whether they're looking at a real witch or not... So in the Dark Ages, there were terrible things like witch hunts. The funny thing is, most women called witches actually helped other women. They willingly made tinctures to ease childbirth pain or reduce inflammation. Sometimes they made things that could quietly dispose of cheating husbands... But even women hated them."

Continuing to speak calmly as if talking to herself, Layla touched her hair with her fingers, then pressed her fingertips to her eyes.

"Black hair and red eyes. These two things are the marks of witches. Since I'm alive and well here, the bloodline of 'real' witches ultimately survived even the Dark Ages. The dead women were probably just apothecaries who lived alone and made good tinctures. Pitifully."

It was a story Yustar also knew well. Evidence of witch's blood. That evidence had been clearly specified since ancient times, but in the Dark Ages they didn't try to identify witches based on such criteria.

If different from others, if not to their liking, ordinary women became witches. Hair color, eye color, age—none of it mattered. Status, of course, didn't either.

Layla said,

"The story wandered a bit. Anyway, going forward... Whatever house I might have, it couldn't be the same as that one. Because that was a real witch's house. A house of countless witches."

Yustar, who had been listening quietly, agreed with a smile.

"I understand what you mean. I seem to have spoken thoughtlessly."

"I wasn't trying to blame you. Thank you for the house offer."

After a moment of silence, she tapped the edge of the table with her fingertips and asked again.

"You said you needed me, right? But why are we staying at the royal palace? I vaguely understand what I'll need to do going forward, but..."

Yustar briefly considered how much he should tell her.

The worry that if she learned in advance about meeting his brother, she might flee in the night crossed his mind... But keeping it secret would certainly bring even worse results.

Without trust, nothing works. Yustar thought. If there was one thing most desperately needed between himself and Layla now, it was trusting each other.

Even shallow, one-dimensional trust would do. Because without a trust relationship, they couldn't do the work waiting for them.

"We won't stay at the royal palace long. Probably. A month... No, it won't even take that long."

Layla's eyes widened. A month? Just thinking about spending a month here was suffocating. She couldn't even endure a week, let alone a month!

"So you're saying we need to stay several more days at least."

At her words, Yustar smiled apologetically but affirmatively.

"Because headquarters is here. I was away quite a while searching for you. When members return, there are several matters requiring reports. And... There are things you need to prepare for too."

"Things to prepare..."

"Simple things. How to use portals, how to use magical tools... Learning such things. You have special eyes and ears, but with only those, you're very likely to face danger. As you saw, even the smallest Sink has tremendous influence and danger. The Sink we saw at Ridgecarse barely rated a grade of 1. Yet it tried to control you."

Layla raised her hand like a student and asked.

"What's a grade rating?"

Yustar answered.

"Tentinella assigns grades to manage Sinks. Various criteria like scale, energy concentration, danger level. Grade 1 Sinks are weakest, Grade 5 Sinks are most powerful. The strongest observed so far was at Grade 4 level. Processing the monsters from that sink, we lost a third of our Fourth and Fifth Branch members."

The back of her neck prickled. She'd known that accompanying him wasn't a simple matter, but the fact she'd only vaguely understood in her head now seemed to reach her skin.

Yustar continued.

"So Layla, you need preparation too. There's one more important thing you must do. This you must do even if you dislike it."

"What is it?"

After hesitating briefly, Yustar spoke as if sighing.

"Tomorrow you must have an audience with my older brother... That is, His Majesty the King of Sierrow."

Suddenly, Layla's vision spun.