A Witch Lives In The Emperor’s Bedroom - Chapter 6

Bella, having finished her bath, donned the nightdress prepared by Fale and arrived at the guest room.

“Rest well, my lady,” said the maids who had attended to Isabella, bowing politely before leaving the room.

For the first time since her adoption, Bella was spending the night outside the White family estate.
And today was far from ordinary.

She looked down at her fingertips, closed her eyes, and focused her thoughts.

A passage from “Magic for Beginners” that she had read back at the orphanage came to mind:

“Focus all your attention on your fingertips and vividly imagine the magic you wish to summon. Once you master the basics, you’ll be able to use magic quickly without needing such intense focus.”

Bella decided to try producing light from her fingertips, just as Zenos had illuminated a room filled with grain sacks.

Concentrating on the image of a glowing red light at her fingertips, she channeled her energy.
But then—

“Ow, hot!”

Bella yelped and jumped back in fright. At the same time, a small flame shot out from her fingertips and landed on the bed.

“Ack, no!”

Panicking, Bella grabbed the blanket and folded it over to smother the flames. She pressed down hard, blocking out any air.
Finally, the fire subsided, but not before the luxurious blanket was charred black across more than a quarter of its surface. The pungent smell of burning filled the room.

“Lady Isabella, is everything all right? I’ve brought some warm tea.”

A knock came from outside the door as a maid, apparently alarmed by the commotion, called out.

“No, nothing happened! Don’t worry about the tea—I don’t need it. Just go and rest!”

Bella shouted back, trying to sound composed, before turning to glare at the scorched blanket. She sighed deeply.

Unsure how to deal with the mess, she hesitated for a while before ultimately flopping onto the bed.

Sinking into the plush mattress, Bella closed her eyes. For now, she decided to forget all the complicated matters weighing on her—the fact that she was a witch, that she had accidentally killed someone by blowing a hole in their face, and that she was lying in the duke’s house.

Even if the lingering smell of burning refused to let her completely escape.

 

***

 

― “A witch has been executed! A witch has been executed!”
― “Last night, the witch was put to death!”

The loud voices coming from outside made Bella scrunch her face in irritation.

She was so exhausted her eyes felt glued shut, yet the commotion outside was maddeningly noisy. Who was shouting loudly enough to be heard even in this basement room?

Wait a moment.

Did my room even have a bed like this?

Flash—

Bella’s eyes flew wide open.
The events of the previous day came rushing back to her in vivid detail, and she found herself staring blankly at her hands—the same hands that had taken a life.

“You’re awake?”

“Aahh!”

Bella screamed and whipped her head around.

Zenos was sitting in the corner of the room.

Perched on an old wooden chair adorned with swirling red patterns, he looked disturbingly calm.

“When—when did you get here?”

Zenos pulled a pocket watch from his jacket, glanced at it briefly, and slipped it back inside.

“Three hours ago.”

“Three hours?!”

Zenos looked at Bella as though her reaction was entirely unwarranted.

Gone was the poised and courteous demeanor he had displayed at the Tipati gathering. Here, he exuded an air of casual indifference.

“What’s with the blanket?” he asked, eyeing the scorched fabric with mild curiosity.

Zenos gestured toward the scorched blanket and asked,

“Did you burn this?”

“Well, I was trying to create a light, and then… fire happened.”

“Is that so? We’ll need to replace it. Do you have a preference for bedding?”

Bella had no idea what types of bedding there even were. She shook her head.

“No, anything’s fine.”

“Alright, then anything it is. By the way, I don’t need to speak formally, do I?”

It was a bit late to ask that, considering Zenos had been speaking informally to her ever since that incident yesterday.

Bella nodded, her head bobbing up and down as if in a daze.

Who in their right mind would tell him no in this situation?

“Good. No one uses formal speech with a warhorse, after all.”

Zenos smirked faintly as he spoke.

“A… warhorse? What do you mean by that?”

“We’ll discuss the details after breakfast. Right now, I’m just here to check on your condition after your awakening. I wanted to make sure the side effects didn’t kill you.”

He said something so frightening with a disconcerting ease.

“I heard from the maids that your body is covered in scars. Was it abuse from the White family?”

“…How long have you suspected?”

“Since I held your hand.”

“…”

“They said you were adopted after a distant relative of the Whites died from plague. Was that a lie?”

Bella nodded.

“I’m not related to them by blood at all. They adopted me because my hair and eye color matched, to keep up appearances. They planned to sell me off in a way that would benefit the family.”

“Who knows about this?”

“Martha, Rosalie, and Ethan. Only the three of them. The maids think they hate and ostracize me because I’m not part of the direct family line.”

“I see.”

Zenos responded indifferently, then stood up.

“The maids mentioned your injuries were severe, so I called for a doctor. She’ll be here in ten minutes. You can relax—she’s a woman. That’s all.”

“W-Wait, Your Grace!”

Bella scrambled out of bed and approached him.

Zenos, who had been heading for the door, turned to face her.
In the brighter light, his physique seemed even larger and more imposing than it had the night before.
For a moment, Bella found herself at a loss for words.

“Well? If you called out, say something.”

Zenos furrowed his brow and urged her to speak.

“…I think I heard people outside talking about a witch being executed. What’s that about?”

“They announced they’d executed a witch. The body of a dead infant was used—burned to ashes—and declared to have been the witch reborn. Lucky for us, there are no physical features to distinguish a witch’s corpse from a human’s.”

“Are you saying… Your Grace lied to the entire empire?”

“Yes. Does that answer your question?”

Without waiting for a response, Zenos left the room.

Bella shook her head, her expression dazed, then lightly patted her cheeks.

It wasn’t a dream after all.

The enormity of what had happened began to sink in, now fully illuminated by the morning sunlight.

 

***

 

After tending to her wounds and freshening up, Bella made her way to the dining table.

The maid who had escorted her bowed to Zenos, who was already seated and then left. Bella stood awkwardly, fidgeting with her hands in front of the table.

“Sit,” Zenos said, lifting his coffee cup.

Before her was a luxurious breakfast spread unlike anything she had ever seen.

“Not knowing what you’d like, I had them prepare a bit of everything,” he said.

“Oh… yes.”

“Of course, you’ll probably find it all delicious. You grew up barely eating properly, didn’t you?”

“…”

“What are you staring at? Sit.”

Zenos gestured to the chair across from him with his butter knife.

“Is this… the real Duke Zenos?” Bella asked hesitantly.

“What do you mean by that?”

“…”

“Oh, are you suggesting I’m being rude?”

Bella chose to answer with silence.

“You’re right. This is the real me,” Zenos admitted nonchalantly.

“It’s exhausting to pretend otherwise. Watching my words to please others? Hate it. Pretending to be kind and caring? It’s nauseating.”

“…”

“You’re no different, though.”

“…Pardon?”

“In that alley. You were practically giddy standing over a corpse with a hole in its face.”

“…”

“Don’t try to pin it all on your awakening as a witch. I saw it in your eyes back at the White estate. That half-mad look.”

Zenos spoke casually as he spread butter on a perfectly toasted croissant.

“Are you going to keep standing there?”

He pointed his knife at Bella again.

Half-mad.

The phrase echoed in Bella’s mind. She couldn’t help but think it might be the most fitting description of her yet.

Finally, she moved her stiff body and took the seat across from him.

The table was far too large compared to the rest of the house, a 12-seater with five chairs on either side and one at each end.

Zenos wasn’t seated at the head of the table but rather in the middle, making it easier for him to face Bella directly.

“This table was a gift from the Emperor,” Zenos said, almost offhandedly. “Made from an apple tree struck by lightning or something. I wasn’t paying much attention, to be honest. I was in a foul mood.”

“Because it’s disproportionately large compared to the estate?” Bella guessed.

Zenos’s lips curved into a brief smile before returning to their neutral line.

“Exactly. It was his way of telling me to know my place.”

He sipped his coffee and added, “So, I’ve decided to expand my place.”

“Why on earth…”

“To stage a rebellion and become Emperor.”

The teacup in Bella’s hand shattered with a loud crash under the pressure of her grip. Startled, she leapt to her feet, only for Zenos to flash a far more pronounced smile than before.

“A promising start.”

“This… this has never happened before…”

“You’ll need to start training to control your magic as soon as possible.”

Zenos picked up a napkin and rose from his seat, approaching Bella. Standing before her, he gently took her wrist.

Bella flinched and looked up at him, startled. Zenos calmly wrapped the napkin around her bleeding fingers.

“…Thank you.”

“You should eat first. You’ll need the energy to understand my plans.”

He guided her back into her chair with a firm but gentle grip on her shoulders and returned to his seat.

“What about the broken cup…?”

“The maids can deal with it later. Eat.”

Still shaken, Bella glanced down at the silverware and the lavish dishes spread before her. She wanted to ask him again about what he’d just said, but she couldn’t summon the courage.

“Eat,” Zenos repeated.

Bella nodded, picking up a fork. But before eating, she instinctively clasped her hands together and bowed her head in silent prayer.

Zenos, midway through cutting into his salted meat, paused and frowned at the sight.

The Empire permitted freedom of religion, though not for altruistic reasons. Declaring a state religion would require appointing high-ranking clergy, and history in other nations had shown how that could undermine an emperor’s authority.

Conversely, banning religion outright would only spark unnecessary rebellion among the people. So, the policy of “religious freedom” was a thinly veiled solution to imperial fears.

When Bella finished her prayer and raised her head, Zenos asked, “Do you follow a religion?”

“Ah…” Bella let out a faint laugh.

“No, I was just making a wish.”

“A wish?”

“Yes. It’s become a habit over the years. My wish has already been granted, but I still find myself praying out of habit.”

“What wish?”

Bella hesitated for a moment before answering, “I wished for the power to destroy the White family.”

Zenos saw a subtle flicker of madness return to Bella’s eyes. It wasn’t fully honed, but it was a gaze that held potential.

He reached out, took Bella’s plate, and began serving her a balanced portion of salad and meat.

“I can do it myself, Your Grace,” Bella stammered, flustered by his actions.

Zenos placed the neatly arranged plate back on the table in front of her and shook his head slightly.

“You have another habit, just like your pre-meal prayer.”

“What do you mean?”

“That demeanor of yours,” Zenos said, leaning forward with a faint expression of distaste.

“You’ve probably lived your whole life pretending to be timid and dull, just to avoid getting beaten to death.”

“…”

“But that attitude won’t help you anymore. Unless, of course, you really want to become a pathetic, spineless fool.”

“…”

“Find your true self.”

“I’ve been acting for so long… Honestly, I don’t even know what my true personality is anymore.”

“When that happens, think of a memory so intense that it cuts through the act.”

“A memory?”

“Like dancing in front of a corpse with a hole in its face.”

“…”

The mention of the corpse sent a tremor through Bella’s hands. She slowly clenched and unclenched her fists, taking deep breaths until the shaking subsided.

Without a word, Bella picked up her utensils and began eating quickly.

Zenos finished his meal, wiped his mouth, and leaned lazily against the arm of the chair beside him. Though his posture was just slightly slouched, he looked every bit like a charming rogue lounging in a tavern.

Feeling his gaze, Bella hesitated mid-bite, a mouthful of meat hovering before her lips, and raised her head to meet his eyes.

When she didn’t shy away, Zenos smiled faintly and asked, “You didn’t wear shoes on purpose, did you?”

Bella swallowed the meat, followed by a sip of water. Through the clear glass of her cup, she could see the intrigue on Zenos’s face.

“You noticed,” she said.

“And you pricked yourself with that brooch on purpose too, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Was it to let me know you were being abused, hoping I’d reconsider the engagement?”

“Yes. I wanted to use that to put a hole in Rosalie’s chest. But I realized something—Your Grace doesn’t truly love her. To a man like you, the truth that your fiancée is cruel and unkind is utterly irrelevant.”

“That’s right.”

Zenos chuckled and shook his head.

“When I greeted her at the front gates, I already thought that old brooch of hers was an eyesore.”

“Everything went as I planned, except for Your Grace’s mask.”

“Didn’t you consider the possibility that your plan might fail, and you’d just get beaten instead? Which, incidentally, is exactly what happened.”

“I did consider it. But I figured it was worth the risk. I also guessed that if Your Grace arrived, you’d dismiss the knights. If I did get beaten, I planned to use the moment to slip away. The maids wouldn’t have been standing guard.”

“And then you would’ve lived as a street urchin?”

“I was destined to be married off to a southern widower in less than six months. He’s fifty years old, and his daughter is ten years older than me.”

Bella stabbed her fork into her salad repeatedly, her movements growing harsh as anger bubbled up inside her.

“They say that nobleman locked up his former wife and starved her to death out of jealousy. Wouldn’t living as a vagabond on the streets be better than marrying into that?”

Zenos listened with a look of mild amusement, clearly entertained.

“Besides, this was my third attempt to escape. After being caught and beaten nearly to death the first two times, I wasn’t even scared yesterday.”

“I see. Well, in the end, everything worked out perfectly,” Zenos said, crossing his thick, muscular arms and nodding.

“It’s a good thing your powers awakened before you married that insane widower. Divorce and remarriage are such tedious matters, not to mention they draw too much attention.”

“What are you talking about?” Bella asked, her face etched with confusion.

Zenos replied lightly as if it were no big deal.

“I have to marry you.”