The Witch Didn't Raise the Tyrant That Way - Chapter 2: How He Grew Up (5)

Why on earth were such esteemed individuals bowing to me, someone who was obviously raised without proper refinement, and treating me with such deference?

They’ve seen what I wore yesterday, haven’t they? Ugh… Maybe they think I’m a wet nurse or something like that.

In truth, I was more like a poorly improvised replacement for a body pillow. Something close to that, anyway.

Still, I swallowed my questions. When Kyle had appeared in front of my house yesterday and ordered me to be taken away, my mind had immediately jumped to a fiery execution ending. Ever since then, I’d been caught in a spiral of guilt, unable to shake the unease of being treated with such courtesy by these nobles—the first I’d ever met since arriving in this world.

In an effort to cope with the situation, I clung to the rationalization I’d once taught Kyle: to try to accept things as they were and find reasons to adapt.

“Um… where is this?”

After breakfast, the attendants said they’d give me a tour of the palace, but instead, they led me to a room along the same corridor. When they opened the door, I froze in place.

This was, without a doubt, my laboratory.

I was sure of it because the furnishings inside were identical to those of my lab back in the forest. Every detail matched perfectly.

The only difference was that this room was more than twice as large, which meant that everything—bookshelves, the worktable, and the shelves for stoLyng potions—had all been scaled up accordingly. On closer inspection, even the books on the shelves, the alchemical journals, the potions in the display case, and the labeled drawers of herbs were identical to what I had in my lab. Everything was arranged exactly as I had left it.

It was as though someone had packed up my lab and moved it here overnight.

But hadn’t the lab burned down yesterday?

“When… when did all of this get here?” I asked, still in disbelief.

“This room has been prepared for you to use freely,” Yvette explained. “We’ve been told that you dislike having others enter your workspace for safety reasons, so no additional staff will be assigned here for cleaning unless you request it. Is that correct?”

“Ah… yes, that’s fine.”

Yvette didn’t directly answer my question, but she continued explaining everything with practiced kindness.

“Please look around carefully, and if anything has been arranged incorrectly, let us know. His Majesty specifically instructed us to recreate your workspace exactly as it was. The only exception is the locked chest we couldn’t replicate—it’s been placed in the empty slot on the display shelf instead. We hope that’s acceptable.”

I nodded quickly, silently vowing that I would never point out any discrepancies, even if there were any.

“If you need additional furniture or tools, please let me know. The same goes for books or materials. Oh, and we’ve assigned a caretaker to your yard back in the forest. If you need any herbs, simply inform me, and someone will retrieve them for you within the day.”

“A caretaker? For the yard?”

“Yes, the royal palace gardener has been dispatched to oversee it, so you don’t need to worry. I’ve been informed that herbs requiring roots will be stored in moist conditions, while leaves, stems, and roots will be dried and stored separately. Is that correct?”

“Yes, that’s… that’s exactly how I do it,” I stammered.

The royal gardener? Wasn’t that one of the kingdom’s most skilled positions? And such a person had been sent to work in my distant forest?

I’m probably stuck here until Kyle’s insomnia improves… but how long will that take?

Part of me felt reassured to hear that my yard wasn’t being neglected—it hinted that they intended to send me back one day. At first, seeing how thoroughly they’d recreated my lab had made me worry they planned to keep me here indefinitely.

Well, Kyle will eventually need to marry for political stability, right? No matter how he sees me, the palace can’t indefinitely house an outsider like me.

So, it’s just until his insomnia is resolved. Thinking that, my chest tightened for some reason, but I dismissed it as the sentimental pang of a mother preparing to send her son off to build his own life.

Once Yvette and the other attendants left me to explore, I meticulously checked every detail of the lab to see if anything was missing. I even opened each drawer in the herb storage cabinet, compaLyng the labels to their contents.

While the general and dangerous substances were stored in the same display case, they were in separate compartments, so I decided not to fuss about it. Other than that, everything was exactly as it had been in my lab.

As I looked around, I silently expressed my gratitude—and a bit of sympathy—for the people who had undoubtedly worked all night to move everything here.

For lunch, I was served a sandwich similar to the one from yesterday. However, small differences in the cheese’s seasoning and the thickness of the tomato slices made it clear that a different person had prepared it this time.

“Um, actually, I was planning to eat the sandwich from last night this morning,” I said, carefully choosing my words. “It was delicious, but I was so sleepy that I decided to take a nap and ended up sleeping until morning. The sandwich today is also tasty, but I’d really like to compare it to the one from yesterday. Would it be possible to get another one like that?”

“Oh, in that case, I’ll consult His Majesty first,” Yvette replied with a polite smile.

Internally, I celebrated my success. This way, I could protect today’s sandwich maker while confirming that yesterday’s chef hadn’t been fired—or worse.

In the afternoon, I was given a tour of the palace. I learned that the section I was staying in, the inner palace, was reserved for members of the royal family. It was located behind the main building, which was directly connected to the palace’s front gates. The main building housed the king’s office, the audience hall, meeting rooms, and more. It was the hub of activity for palace officials and visiting nobles conducting business.

The most shocking revelation, however, was that the bedroom I had slept in last night was Kyle’s. While I’d suspected as much, hearing it confirmed was something I’d wanted to avoid.

“Since His Majesty is the only resident of the inner palace, you’re free to go anywhere within it, including the gardens in the rear. However, I won’t be able to accompany you to the central courtyard connecting to the main building or the grand gardens in front of it,” Yvette explained.

“That’s fine,” I replied, relieved. It’s not like I want to go there anyway.

Thinking that I was being allowed more freedom than I expected, I leaned over the terrace railing to take in the view of the rear gardens. At the center of the beautifully manicured hedges were patches of sage, lavender, and other wildflowers you’d usually find in the forest. The scene seemed slightly out of place in the palace’s refined atmosphere, but I assumed it was part of the gardener’s plan.

After the tour, I enjoyed a light tea with the attendants. It was served in elegant porcelain teaware that looked ridiculously expensive. Each tray, teacup, and personal plate was rimmed with gold, and the delicate cups were so light that it felt like holding air.

Among the array of sophisticated tea snacks, one item stood out—a large apple pie.

Its warm, sweet aroma immediately overwhelmed the refined fragrance of the tea.

“Um, this is…?”

“It’s made with apples delivered directly from the northeastern provinces. His Majesty personally tasted it and believed it would suit your palate. We also have cinnamon powder and fresh cream prepared on the side, should you like them,” Yvette explained.

The apple pie, with its intricately braided crust, tasted remarkably similar to the ones I used to bake. While the attendants praised its flavor, calling it delicious, I couldn’t help but feel self-conscious. This pie, though tasty, seemed ill-suited for the refined preferences of the nobility. Still, for the sake of the baker’s well-being, I made sure to eat as much as I could.

The strange sense of déjà vu continued into the evening when I took a bath.

Though I hadn’t been able to see it the previous day, the bathroom attached to the bedroom was enormous. It was half the size of the bedroom itself, and despite its size, it housed only a single bathtub. The luxuriousness of it all bordered on excessive.

The porcelain tiles lining the floor and walls were decorated with intricate gold patterns, and the corners of the room featured marble statues. The bathtub itself, also made of porcelain, was large enough to comfortably fit two people. I couldn’t even imagine how big a kiln would have been required to craft it.

In such an opulent setting, I was bathed once again by the noble-born attendants, dressed in their expensive gowns.

The entire experience was so humiliating that I couldn’t bring myself to meet their eyes as they washed me. My gaze wandered aimlessly around the room until it landed on something peculiar.

“What’s… that?” I asked, blinking in disbelief.

On a shelf in the extravagant bathroom, among all the luxurious items, sat a rubber duck. It was identical to the one I used to place in Kyle’s wooden tub every time he took a bath.

But I never gave it to him… Why is it here?

As I stared at it, unable to look away, Yvette picked up the duck and placed it in the water. It floated cheerfully on the surface.

“I’m not sure. It was said that it might be necessary.”

“Pardon?”

Who… did this?

I used to add a duck to Kyle’s bath just because I wasn’t sure when he’d outgrow it. Apparently, he’d come to think of the rubber duck as an essential part of bathing.

I examined the duck with a mix of nostalgia and curiosity. It looked exactly like the one I used to put in Kyle’s wooden tub. The only difference was that my old duck, made of wood, had become faded and worn from being submerged in water so often. This one, however, was brilliantly yellow with a glossy sheen—clearly the result of some expensive treatment. It didn’t even get wet, let alone sink into the water.

How fascinating. Thinking this, I gave its beak a playful tap. To my surprise, the duck started to vibrate, sending tiny bubbles scattering across the soapy surface of the water.

“Uh, uh…?”

Startled, I tapped the beak a few more times. The duck shivered erratically, creating more bubbles, before finally coming to a stop.

What on earth? My heart was still racing as I stared at the duck in confusion.

“I believe it was crafted by the Master of the Magic Tower,” Yvette explained calmly.

“…The Master of the Magic Tower made this?” I asked, tilting my head in disbelief.

Yvette nodded with a polite smile, though her expression betrayed a hint of amusement. I couldn’t help but notice the sly glances the attendants exchanged as if they were suppressing laughter or sharing some secret joke.

* * *

Kyle returned to the bedroom just as Yvette had said, well into the depths of the night. I was sitting in a single-seater armchair by the window, leafing through the latest edition of the Academy’s botanical encyclopedia, which I had stumbled upon in the library during the day.

“Oh, you’re back?” I greeted him casually.

“……”

Kyle didn’t respond. He swung the door open and strode toward me with such force that my heart started pounding in my chest for no reason at all. His steps were heavy, deliberate, and filled with intensity. Although this was his palace and his room, and he had every right to enter unannounced, his sudden arrival startled me.

In no time, Kyle had crossed the expansive room and stopped directly in front of me. Leaning down with one hand braced on the armrest of my chair, he brought his face alarmingly close—so close there was barely a handspan between us.

His expression was rigid, almost as if he were angry.

This, too, was a side of Kyle I had never seen before.

“Is something wrong…?” I managed to ask, barely able to breathe under the weight of his presence.

Before I could get a proper response, Kyle leaned even closer, pressing his nose to the crook of my neck. His broad shoulders rose and fell with deep, deliberate breaths, and I could feel the sharp tip of his nose and the warmth of his exhale against my skin. Goosebumps prickled along the back of my neck at the sensation.

For a while, there was only silence between us, broken by the sound of his steady breathing.

“…Ah, I can finally breathe again,” he muttered at last.

He mumbled something else under his breath, grumbling about “insignificant pests” who “make demands over the smallest things.” It seemed he was recalling some unpleasantness from the day’s work. Looking closer, his hardened expression wasn’t anger—it was exhaustion.

The hand he had braced on the armrest moved slowly, slipping behind me to rest on my lower back. Trapped between his arms, my shoulders were now pressed snugly within his sturdy frame.

Is he sniffing for the potpourri scent again? I wondered idly. But surely it’s gone by now, after all the expensive oils from my bath yesterday and today.

“Lin.”

As I was mulling this over, Kyle shifted closer, his hand tightening on my waist and drawing me toward him. My chest brushed against his as he pulled me into his embrace. His loosely tied nightgown revealed a damp, faintly glistening chest that still smelled faintly of soap.

Come to think of it, there’s a bathroom right over there, so where does he even go to bathe?

Just then, his nose moved against the nape of my neck, and something soft—slightly damp—brushed against my skin.

“Lin…”

“Your hair isn’t dry,” I blurted out, interrupting whatever he was about to say. The moment I realized what had touched my skin—his lips—I instinctively dismissed the notion. Surely it had been an accident. There was no way Kyle had kissed me on purpose.

“You still can’t dry your own hair? Seriously… Do the attendants not help you?” I rambled on, trying to defuse the situation.

“……”

“Look, your hair is dripping. Should I dry it for you?”

Reaching out, I ran my fingers through his damp bangs and held up my hand, now wet with water droplets, right in front of his face.

Kyle had pulled back slightly by then, looking at me with a bewildered expression. His crimson eyes darted between my face and my outstretched fingers as if trying to process what had just happened.

“You…”

“…Hmm?”

A faint sigh escaped from his lips.

Then, before I could react, Kyle lowered his head again. In a swift motion, he took my damp fingers into his mouth. His hot, wet tongue traced my fingertips with deliberate slowness, leaving a sticky warmth behind. After a soft sucking sound, he pulled back.