Hansel’s Enchanted Fairytale: Fill Me Up With Magic! - Chapter 92
“H-Huh…?”
Hansel blinked a few times, stunned.
Marriage? Where did that come from all of a sudden?
Wait—does Dante even know what marriage is?
Probably not.
It must have been something he’d picked up from his reading. The thought was endearing and a little absurd, making Hansel chuckle softly.
“Did you read about that in a book too?”
“No.”
Dante raised an eyebrow as if offended by the suggestion.
“I’ve always known about it.”
“S-Sure. Then tell me—what does marriage mean to you?”
“It’s when the person you like most stays with you.”
Dante gently stroked Hansel’s forehead, his gaze soft and tender. His eyes roamed over her face as though committing every detail to memory.
It was the look of someone gazing at a precious jewel.
“It’s wanting to give them the best of everything. Wanting to do everything for them.”
“……”
“And cherishing them forever as someone truly special.”
“……”
“Marry me, Hansel.”
Dante softly took her hand, lifting it to his lips. He kissed the fourth finger, the sunlight catching on his long, thick lashes.
With his lips still pressed to her ring finger, Dante slowly opened his eyes. His crimson gaze reflected her image as if she were the only thing that existed.
Hansel’s heart pounded wildly.
Who could possibly say no? What kind of person could reject this pure and beautiful man?
Hansel wrapped her arms around his neck.
“I will.”
“……”
“I’ll marry you, Dante. And I’ll have a child with you too.”
Hansel’s smile was as warm and gentle as the first light of spring closing winter’s door. Dante leaned in, tilting his head.
A tender kiss that promised eternity.
As his lips brushed hers, Hansel cradled his cheek with a gentle hand.
“Dante. Then we… there’s somewhere we need to go.”
Hansel Arsinoe. Dante Herodt.
If they were to share forever together, there was something they had to face.
***
A spring breeze carrying the scent of flowers blew through the gardens of the Arsinoe estate.
Roses had yet to bloom on the trellises entwining the rocking chair, where Gretel sat idly swinging.
Her gaze was blank, cast into the void, until she suddenly froze.
The focus snapped back in her blue eyes.
“Is someone coming?”
She sensed a faint trace of magical energy.
Could someone have infiltrated the Arsinoe estate? That was impossible—no one alive possessed such overwhelming magic.
“Sister? Is that you?”
Gretel’s voice held a trace of excitement, but it quickly faded.
“No, that can’t be. She can’t even use magic.”
With a deep sigh, Gretel slumped back into the chair.
It had been well over three months since her sister left.
She’d expected Hansel to grow tired and return, but there was still no word from her.
“Stupid idiot. Why don’t you just die somewhere already? Hmph.”
Petulantly, she kicked at a pebble, sending it skittering across the ground.
A small shadow loomed over her.
“Sorry to disappoint, but I can’t grant your wish.”
Gretel’s head shot up.
Hansel stood there, arms crossed, smirking down at her.
“S-Sister?”
“That’s right. Good thing you haven’t forgotten my face. You seem to be thriving without me—”
“Sister! Waaah!”
Like a springing frog, Gretel leapt from her seat and threw herself into Hansel’s arms.
The force nearly knocked Hansel over as Gretel clung to her, squeezing so tightly that it was hard to breathe.
What’s going on? Why is she acting like this?
Tears and snot streaming, Gretel pounded Hansel’s shoulders with her fists.
“Why didn’t you just die? Why come back now? You’re awful! Selfish jerk! You always annoyed me, and then you left without a word! Idiot! Stupid! Moron! Fool!”
“Hey, ow! That hurts!”
Hansel stumbled backward, trying to dodge Gretel’s relentless blows.
At the same time, Gretel’s arms froze midair, stopped short by a strong, unyielding barrier.
The chaotic tantrum came to an abrupt halt.
A muscular arm blocked Gretel’s path to Hansel, veins and tendons bulging beneath rolled-up sleeves.
It was clearly a man’s arm, all lean muscle and raw strength.
Gretel’s gaze trailed up the arm.
Her eyes locked with a pair of sharp, crimson irises.
Dante stood there, pulling Hansel into his arms and shielding her with his own.
Gretel suddenly couldn’t breathe.
Tousled gray hair, thick, defined brows over predatory crimson eyes, a sharply sculpted nose, and firmly set lips.
He looked like a figure pulled straight from a fairy tale—a stunningly beautiful man.
Like her sister, Gretel had always been drawn to handsome faces, but that wasn’t why her breathing stopped.
Her shoulders began trembling, as if she were standing on a ground shaking with aftershocks.
Terrifying.
One wrong move, and I’ll die.
