🔊 TTS Settings
chapter 7
“Hehe. You don’t have to be so nervous, young lady. I only invited you to this tea party because I was curious about the healer Rudels brought along.”
She sipped her tea again as she spoke to me.
Of course, I didn’t want to be nervous either.
The Grand Duchess’s voice was gentle and pleasant to hear, but that vague fear of beastkin never really disappeared.
Still, I swallowed down the truth I could never reveal and forced a smile.
“Thank you for your consideration, Your Grace.”
I bowed politely, blinking my eyes innocently.
I had to prove that I had no hidden motives—otherwise, I didn’t think I’d make it out of here alive.
The Grand Duchess gave a faint, amused laugh at my behavior and offered me tea.
“This is rosehip tea, made from the rose hips of the roses I’ve been tending. They say it’s good for skin aging—please try some.”
So that’s where the fragrant rose scent had been coming from—it was the tea.
I nodded lightly and took a sip of the rosehip tea.
The delicate floral fragrance and refreshing tang spread across my tongue before going down smoothly.
The herbal teas I used to brew often turned bitter when I messed up the temperature, but this one had none of that harshness.
I wondered if other flower teas could taste and smell this lovely.
Smiling shyly, I set the teacup down.
The Grand Duchess watched me with interest and asked:
“How do you find the aroma of the tea?”
“The subtle rose fragrance and refreshing tang make me feel uplifted. Back in the village, we couldn’t get luxury tea like this, so we grew herbs on the mountain to make our own. It doesn’t compare at all.”
I smiled more easily now and looked at Her Grace.
She studied me briefly, as if observing some curious creature.
“How curious.”
“…Pardon?”
“Oh, nothing. What is your name, young lady?”
She asked with a gentle smile.
“I am Irriel Lottis, Your Grace.”
“Hehe. No need to be so stiff, Healer Irriel. Please, call me Penelope.”
Introducing herself so casually as Penelope, the Grand Duchess smiled gracefully at me.
But all it did was weigh heavily on me.
What witch in her right mind could call a beastkin by name so casually?!
I screamed inwardly, but since she insisted, I had no choice but to nod.
“Yes, Lady Penelope.”
“Hehe. Forgive me for calling you here so suddenly, Irriel. Have you visited the treatment room yet?”
I nodded at her question.
There were many things I wanted to say, but I didn’t want to risk sounding bothersome, so I held my tongue and studied her expression.
Her eyes shimmered faintly with excitement.
Then, with lips curled slightly, Lady Penelope asked me something unexpected.
“Irriel, you have such lovely hair. Did you dye it?”
I thought she would question my origins as a witch, or my qualifications as a healer.
Apparently, my hair color stood out even here.
Suppressing a sigh, I answered earnestly.
“Ah… no, it isn’t. They said it turned this way after I had a fever not long after I was born.”
“Oh my, I’m sorry. I was rude—it’s truly beautiful hair.”
“Not at all.”
I could only give a bitter smile at her words.
In the Witch Nation, white hair was considered a symbol of a curse. When my fever changed my hair color, everyone whispered that I was cursed—even my parents.
People looked at me with barely hidden disgust, and my parents could only pity me.
So, to hear my hair called beautiful—twice, no less—left me bewildered.
Maybe my reaction showed on my face, or maybe the Grand Duchess realized what white hair meant in the Witch Nation. Either way, she changed the subject with a faintly regretful expression.
“Anyway, I haven’t thanked you properly yet.”
“…Pardon? Thanked me for what…?”
“I heard you treated my son. Apparently, the boy clumsily got himself hurt after running into a witch—”
Her teeth grated menacingly when she said witch, but I forced myself to ignore it and quickly waved my hand.
“No, it’s nothing. Anyone would have helped Lord Rudels in that situation. Besides, it wasn’t even a serious wound.”
Amused by my response, she smiled and asked:
“But it was a magic wound, wasn’t it? That would have been difficult for an ordinary person to heal.”
I couldn’t argue with that.
Parched, I took another sip of tea before looking back at Her Grace.
She was still smiling with her eyes as she spoke.
“One more question, Irriel.”
Her soft voice rolled my name so naturally that I nodded without hesitation.
“If you saw a beastkin, in animal form, injured on the roadside—would you treat him without hesitation?”
The premise behind that question was obvious—that I was a witch.
It was the most sensitive issue between witches and beastkin, but I didn’t falter.
“Yes, I would.”
“May I ask why?”
I explained without pause.
“Witch or beastkin, a life is still a life. If I refused to treat someone just because I’m a witch, then I wouldn’t be a true healer. Before anything else, I chose to live as a healer.”
Calmly, I laid out my conviction about what it meant to be a healer.
Of course, if it were a beastkin, I might be afraid.
But ignoring someone in pain would go against my beliefs.
I met Lady Penelope’s gaze steadily.
She smiled, almost like a cat who had found an amusing toy.
Just as I began to feel a flicker of fear, she chuckled softly.
“I see.”
That was all she said, before falling silent and simply drinking her tea.
I could only sit quietly and wait for the tea time to end.
Rudels sat tapping his fingers irritably on the desk.
His dark ears and tail—things he tried to keep hidden from Irriel—were now visible, his tail swishing low in annoyance.
His aide, the black panther beastkin Rusel, sighed at his young master’s sulky appearance.
“Lord Rudels, please soften your expression.”
“Rusel, do you think now is the time for me to look calm?”
“The council meeting starts soon. Don’t forget it’s already been delayed two hours because you were busy showing that witch around the house.”
Clenching his teeth, Rusel glared at his foolish master.
Judging by his sullen face and twitching tail, losing the witch to someone else must have really gotten under his skin.
Rusel reminded him:
“If Lady Penelope intended to harm her, she would have been dead on the way there. And Her Grace doesn’t just invite anyone to her tea parties.”
“That’s exactly the problem. Why did it have to be my mother’s tea party?”
Rudels propped his chin on his hand, brooding over her intentions.
Penelope Iffin’s tea parties were not like ordinary noblewomen’s gatherings. Only a select few in the Beastkin Kingdom’s power circles ever received such invitations.
Because Penelope Iffin was the only Spirit Master in the Beastkin Kingdom.
Beastkin revered not only physical strength but also the power of nature. And nothing was closer to nature than spirits.
So the beastkin adored Penelope, chosen by the spirits, and those invited to her tea parties were elated, as though blessed themselves.
But why would she invite Irriel, a witch? Was it mere curiosity—or something deeper?
“I just don’t get it…”
Rudels stared out the sunlit window toward the greenhouse.
Meanwhile, at the tea party, I nibbled on a madeleine from the tea tray.
Moist, sweet, with a hint of lemon fragrance.
As I savored it, Lady Penelope kept watching me with an unreadable expression.
Was I eating too many tea snacks? Feeling guilty, I quietly set the madeleine down.
She smiled softly at my timid gesture and offered me another dessert.
“Why don’t you try this tart as well?”
The way she pressed treats on me reminded me of a grandmother spoiling her granddaughter—except this “grandmother” was the mate of a wolf beastkin.
Accepting a slice of lemon tart, which looked like it would pair well with rosehip tea, I glanced back at her face.
She was still staring at me, lost in thought.
Unable to bear the gaze any longer, I asked:
“Um… Is there something on my face, Lady Penelope?”
“No, nothing at all. Please, continue with your tea.”
She laughed playfully and sipped her tea, but her persistent eyes never left me.
If she had something to say, I wished she’d just say it.
But since she insisted otherwise, I didn’t have the courage to press her and simply drank my tea in silence.
That was when I noticed a fluttering, sky-blue butterfly.
I had never seen such a butterfly before.
Setting my cup down, I gazed blankly at it.
Its translucent, sky-colored wings beat gently as it drifted away between the palm trees.
With a touch of disappointment, I kept staring toward the palms—until the Grand Duchess spoke to me.
“Oh my. What a wistful expression you’re wearing, Lady Irriel.”
Her eyes sparkled as she said it.
