A Witch Lives In The Emperor’s Bedroom - Chapter 7

As the guards entered the estate, Rosalie rushed toward one of them in a panic.

“Did you find her?!”

The guard shook his head with a troubled expression.

Rosalie staggered, and Ethan reached out to steady her.

“This is all your fault!” she screamed, pushing Ethan’s hand away. Tears welled up in her wide eyes, threatening to spill over.

“You should’ve stopped! You should’ve known when to draw the line! How could you whip her so much that she’d run away?!”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” Ethan snapped back. “I didn’t even get started! That brat just started whining and ran off out of nowhere! What was I supposed to do? You’re the one who should’ve calmed down instead of making it worse!”

“What?! Are you seriously trying to pin this on me? She ran because of you, you insane bastard!”

“Enough!”

Martha’s heavy voice cut through the chaos as she walked down the hallway.

“Continue the search,” she commanded the guard. “She’s a frail girl and couldn’t have gotten far. Check every nearby orphanage as well.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The guard bowed respectfully and left the estate.

Rosalie dashed toward Martha like a child seeking comfort and clung to her.

“If Isabella causes any trouble with my marriage, I’ll kill her. I swear, I’ll kill her!” she sobbed, grinding her teeth as tears streamed down her face.

Ethan crossed his arms and rolled his eyes as if resigned to yet another one of her outbursts.

“Don’t worry, Rosalie,” Martha said soothingly. “Nothing will disrupt your marriage. I’ll make sure of it. No matter what happens, there won’t be even the smallest blemish on it.”

“Why are you just standing there? Get lost!” Rosalie screeched at Ethan, swiping at him as if to claw him away.

Martha held her back firmly, while Ethan glared at her with irritation.

“What’s next, Rosalie? Are you going to kill me too?”

“If you want me to, I’d be happy to oblige.”

“What?”

“What do you even do for this family, huh? Do you win battles or manage our lands? I secured an engagement with the Grand Duke, raising the White family’s standing to unprecedented heights! And you? Aside from tagging along on hunts with second-rate noble heirs, you’re utterly useless!”

Ethan stormed toward her, pointing a trembling finger in her face. His lips quivered as he fought to contain his rage.

“Watch your mouth, Rosalie White. I’ve hunted with Grand Duke Zenos, the second prince, and even the Crown Prince himself!”

“Oh, please,” Rosalie scoffed. “You think I don’t know you’ve only gone on a hunt or two for diplomacy’s sake? You’re the one who should watch your mouth. When I become the Grand Duchess, I’ll make sure to have you sent to the most dangerous borderlands!”

“Oh, is that so? Well, if I kill you before the wedding, you’ll never become the Grand Duchess, will you?”

“Didn’t I tell you both to stop?”

Martha sighed heavily, pulling Rosalie closer and putting some distance between the two siblings.

“Isabella’s disappearance won’t harm us in any way. There’s no need for these pointless arguments between us, children.”

She patted Rosalie’s back, her voice calm and practiced, as if used to break up such fights.

“Rosalie, don’t worry so much. And you shouldn’t speak to your brother like that.”

“I’m sorry, Mother. But—”

“No excuses. And Ethan, you too. If your sister speaks out of frustration, you should handle it with a generous heart, shouldn’t you?”

“Yes, Mother. I’m sorry.”

“Now, make up,” Martha said softly, guiding Rosalie toward Ethan.

The siblings extended their hands toward each other. Holding hands, they soon exchanged warm gazes.

“I’m sorry, brother.”

“No, I’m sorry, my dear sister.”

Martha watched them with a satisfied expression as the siblings embraced each other tightly.

***

“They’re a deranged family,” Bella said.

Though she still seemed overwhelmed by the shock of hearing the word marriage, she couldn’t help but speak her mind.

“Those three White family members are incomprehensible to anyone with common sense.”

“So, are you saying you won’t marry me? Are you afraid of taking Rosalie’s place?”

“No, that’s not it,” Bella replied, shaking her head with a grimace. She couldn’t possibly turn down an opportunity to strike back at the White family.

“Then what is it?”

“You said you plan to marry me publicly and use my powers as a witch to become Emperor, correct?”

“That’s right. Refuse, and I’ll send you straight back to the White family.”

Which, of course, meant sending her to her death. Clearly, refusal had never been a real option. Bella flinched at his bluntness, but she’d already guessed as much.

“Then you’ll have to promise me something: guarantee my protection. Even when I’m no longer useful to you, ensure that I’m neither sent back to the White family nor killed. Provide me with enough funds to live comfortably abroad for the rest of my life.”

“Do I seem like the kind of fool who would kill someone simply because they’ve outlived their usefulness? That’s wasteful and inefficient.”

The fact that efficiency was his only reason for not killing someone… Bella felt like she was learning more about the Grand Duke. None of it was flattering.

“How could I know whether you’re inefficient or not? I haven’t known you long enough to judge,” Bella said reflexively, only to immediately cover her mouth in regret. Was his earlier encouragement to be candid making her too bold?

“It’s fine,” Zenos said with a shrug. “I did tell you to behave this way.”

“…”

“I said it’s fine.”

“What if I make a slip of the tongue in front of others?” Bella asked nervously. “Are you letting me speak freely because you plan to keep me locked in this estate?”

“No. Our marriage will be announced, and you’ll be accompanying me to the front lines. Naturally, you’ll be active outside.”

“And yet I don’t have to watch my words? I’m marrying into royalty.”

“An overly timid attitude will only hinder your ability to wield a witch’s power. But once you leave the estate, you’ll need to act the part.”

“Excuse me?”

Bella gaped, caught off guard by his nonchalant attitude.

“What if my acting fails?”

“If the madness in your eyes surfaces while you’re dancing in front of corpses,” Zenos said casually, “it’ll attract trouble. People will start questioning why I married you, they’ll dig deeper, and eventually, they’ll discover you’re a witch. At that point, we’ll both die.”

He said it so calmly that Bella found it unnerving.

“You’ve prayed at every meal for the power to destroy the White family,” Zenos continued. “Miraculously, your wish has been granted. You’ve gained power, so you ought to use it to achieve your revenge.”

“…Yes, you’re right. I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever it takes to get revenge on the White family.”

“Then why the long face? Something’s bothering you, isn’t it?”

Bella hesitated, glancing at Zenos nervously. His sharp perception was as unnerving as ever.

“There’s something I want to ask,” she admitted.

“Go ahead.”

“I’ve heard that witches can’t stop until they’ve killed a thousand people. Does that mean I’ll soon end up killing people I don’t even want to harm?”

“Ah, that,” Zenos said with a dismissive shrug. “It’s all lies.”

“What?”

“The thousand-kill rule? It’s a lie. Something the Imperial Palace spread. In fact, nine out of ten things people believe about witches are lies.”

“I don’t understand. Why—”

“It’s time to head to the palace,” Zenos said, cutting her off as he stood. He gestured at Bella’s plate, which was still full of food.

“Finish eating before you get up. I’ll see you this evening.”

Before Bella could rise or respond, Zenos had already left the dining room, leaving her staring after him.

Bella slumped forward, resting her cheek against the table.

Absentmindedly, she pinched the back of her hand.

A sharp sting confirmed that this was all very real.

***

“Zenos!”

Pyke rose from his throne-like golden chair, adorned with a large ruby.

He bore an uncanny resemblance to Zenos, though he was slightly shorter and his body was stockier, like a block of solid stone. His jet-black hair and brown eyes were identical to Zenos’s, a reminder that the royal family, like the Whites, maintained strict traditions to preserve their line’s distinctive features.

Despite being in his office, Pyke wore a sword at his hip and carried the faint metallic scent of blood that only Zenos could detect. The man had gilded the entire palace upon ascending the throne, yet even that hadn’t been enough for him—his chair alone was an opulent monstrosity.

Zenos, as always, felt disgusted by Pyke’s obsession with ostentation.

“Your Majesty,” Zenos greeted, his expression radiating deference and affection, masking his true feelings.

“Ah, state affairs have kept me so busy I’m only now seeing my dear brother. You’ve been in the capital for quite some time, haven’t you?”

“Well, now that my campaigns are over, I’m nothing but a man at leisure. Naturally, I must align myself with Your Majesty’s schedule.”

“Haha, so charming,” Pyke laughed, patting Zenos’s cheek before guiding him to a central sofa.

As Zenos followed, he suppressed the humiliation simmering beneath his polished exterior.

“I hear you visited your fiancée yesterday?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“So, how was it seeing her again? The wedding announcement is just around the corner. You must be excited. Ah, the joys of youth!”

Pyke’s hearty laugh filled the room, but Zenos feigned a troubled expression as he replied.

“Actually, I have something to report about my engagement, Your Majesty.”

“Is there a problem?”

“I cannot marry Miss Rosalie White.”

Zenos didn’t beat around the bush.

Pyke’s expression darkened immediately.

The White family was the perfect match—a barony that posed no political threat yet provided wealth and prestige through a union with the imperial family. The Whites had plenty of resources and little political ambition, making them ideal in every respect.

For Zenos, the usually obedient youngest sibling, to suddenly deviate from the plan was perplexing.

Pyke scrutinized Zenos with a sharp, calculating gaze.

“You know this wasn’t an engagement founded on love,” Pyke said, his voice calm but firm. “It’s a marriage that benefits the empire. Surely you can accept it as a sacred and honorable duty?”

Pyke placed a heavy hand on Zenos’s thigh, his expression softening into one of faux benevolence.

Zenos glanced down at his brother’s hand, then lifted his gaze to meet Pyke’s. Their identical brown eyes locked in a silent battle.

“Your Majesty, you are aware the White family has a youngest daughter.”

“The youngest daughter? Ah, yes, I recall hearing they have one son and two daughters. Why?”

“I have come to care for her.”

Pyke stared at Zenos, momentarily speechless.

But Zenos didn’t flinch. His unwavering gaze seemed to declare he would accept any punishment for his words.

“I wish to marry her. Fortunately, the engagement with Miss Rosalie White has not yet been announced. If Your Majesty permits, I would like to wed Miss Isabella White instead.”

For a moment, Pyke remained silent, studying his brother. Then, suddenly, he clapped his hands and burst into laughter.

“My brother, the hopeless romantic!”

Shaking his head, Pyke let out a hearty chuckle, clearly delighted.

“Well, it’s the same White family, so it’s hardly a loss. And I doubt they’ll object much. She may be adopted, but she’s still a child of the Whites.”

Unaware of Isabella’s status as the family’s scapegoat, Pyke found the request perfectly reasonable. To him, it didn’t matter whether Zenos married the eldest daughter or the youngest. As long as it was a White, the union served its purpose.

Moreover, Pyke had worried that Zenos might resent having his marriage partner chosen for him. Instead, Zenos now claimed to truly care for his chosen bride, providing the perfect excuse for Pyke to appear supportive while securing the alliance with the Whites.

“Have you informed the White family?” Pyke asked, his tone light and curious.

“Miss Isabella carries a deep sense of guilt, so I haven’t informed them yet. In truth, this is a marriage I’ve pushed for, so I’m waiting for the right moment.”

“Haha, is that so? My, my, I didn’t know my little brother had such a side to him. Throwing caution to the wind for love!”

“Then may I consider it as having received Your Majesty’s approval?”

Pyke nodded, as if the question was unnecessary, and then pulled Zenos into a tight embrace.

“Of course. I grant my permission for your marriage to Miss Isabella White, my dear brother.”