Hansel’s Enchanted Fairytale: Fill Me Up With Magic! - Chapter 2
“In ordinary society, simply being from a mage family is enough to command respect. Their leaders even value the ability to lie convincingly. You might not excel at much, but you’re certainly good at running your mouth.”
Hansel bit the soft flesh inside her cheek, holding back the tears threatening to spill. She knew well enough that crying now would only make her mother think even less of her.
Margaret turned her head toward the window. Her elegant nose shimmered coldly in the pale morning light. Her gaze, as it passed through the floor-to-ceiling glass, was chilling.
“Hansel, you are far more incapable than you realize. You can’t adapt to our society—you must know that much without me having to say it. If so, it would be better for you to live comfortably among ordinary people who will treat you with dignity. That is the easiest path for you.”
Bang!
Hansel shot to her feet, her chair toppling backward with a loud clatter. The sudden commotion caused the tower of steak Gretel had been stacking to collapse. Pieces of blood-streaked meat tumbled messily across the pristine white marble table.
“Fine! Whether it’s ordinary people, nobles, the Witch of the Gingerbread House, or a wolf from the northern forest, sell me off to whoever you want. I’ll just stay shut in my room, waiting obediently for my oh-so-great mother’s commands, like the useless daughter I am.”
“……!”
Margaret raised an eyebrow, and Gretel gasped, covering her mouth in shock. Hansel didn’t care—she turned on her heel and strode toward the door.
Her hand on the doorknob, Hansel glanced back. She saw the tiny figurine of herself sitting atop a birthday cake, a crown perched on its head.
Right, today was her twentieth birthday.
The contrast between the figurine and her real self—humiliated at the breakfast table—was so absurd it made her laugh bitterly.
“Speaking of, that book by Madame Virginia in my room…”
Hansel shifted her gaze toward Gretel, whose face tensed with unease. Her ominous tone made Gretel swallow hard.
Hansel smirked and nonchalantly continued,
“I actually borrowed it from Gretel. But apparently, some of the positions in it are a bit fantastical. She said herself they don’t work when she tries them. Told me last year, in fact. The one position for three people at once, though—that one, she says, is accurate.”
“W-What?! No! There isn’t a single position in there that doesn’t work!”
“Gretel?”
“Ah! No, I mean… uh, that’s not…!”
Gretel’s face flushed crimson as she jumped from her chair in panic. Her simple-minded inability to defend herself only made Hansel laugh harder in disbelief.
To think I’m considered more useless than this idiot.
Hansel slammed the door shut and marched down the hallway. The chilly winter air was bitter. Her footsteps echoed hollowly in the empty corridor.
***
Late that night, thick snow blanketed the world outside, painting the sky a deep indigo. A single yellow lamp illuminated the room, so quiet that the creaking of the windowpane in the breeze sounded like a raging storm.
Hansel had been sitting at her desk in the same position since storming out of breakfast. Her nanny had left snacks outside the hallway, but she hadn’t touched them.
She had known since she was six that she would never be the child her mother wanted. Even when the fairy godmother from the pumpkin carriage story shared her magic, it hadn’t worked on her. Just as her mother said, she was a bottomless pit.
The stain of the family. A disgrace. A humiliation. And so on.
Hansel slumped forward onto her desk.
“I know. I know, okay? But deciding my marriage like this—it’s too much, isn’t it?”
The thought of discovering her husband’s face only on their wedding night was unbearable.
Hansel idly stared down at the cover of the book on her desk.
[ Ten Billion S****l Desires and Realities: Madame Virginia Johnson’s Practical Study on S****l Techniques ]
She flipped through one of the bookmarked pages at random.
[ When faced with an oversized object for oral engagement, don’t try to force it all in. Instead, treat it as if you’re savoring the tip with gentle strokes of your tongue… ]
“…Not this part.”
It wasn’t the section she was looking for. Hansel skimmed through a few more bookmarked pages until she found the one she’d read the night before.
[ The most accurate measures of a man’s size involve multiple factors—finger thickness, length, height, nose size, hair texture, and personality, among others—but no single indicator is definitive.
However, in the case of non-mage men, those with irrational insecurities or strong inferiority complexes are statistically more likely to have smaller equipment.
As for mage men… ]
Hansel swallowed hard, her eyes scanning the lines of text with an intensity born of desperation.
