The Little Merman Demands Legs from the Sea Witch - Chapter 15
“Thank you,” Iko said.
“Sure,” Kashmir replied nonchalantly.
But the corners of his mouth kept twitching upwards into a smile.
Realizing this, he furrowed his brow, trying to suppress the grin.
“Witch, why don’t you thank me a bit more specifically?” he teased.
Iko found it bothersome, but since she was genuinely grateful, she decided to humor him a little.
“I was getting cold and almost caught a cold, but thanks to you, I’m warm. Thank you.”
Kashmir couldn’t hold back his smile any longer and grinned widely. Then, as if something had suddenly occurred to him, he narrowed his eyes at her.
“Does such a considerate person like me still seem like an annoying distraction to you? Like a child? No, right?”
“…”
“Why are you suddenly silent? You were just talking so well.”
“I’ll remember that you’re not always a distraction,” Iko replied, though her response didn’t seem to satisfy him.
Kashmir frowned, grumbling loudly that she should have seen for herself the effort he went through to bring the blanket.
“Did you eat the stew after all?”
Iko changed the subject, noticing the now-empty stew bowl.
“I scraped the bowl clean,” he replied.
“It must have been good.”
“Of course.”
“So, even cold food tastes good to you? I thought you only liked it warm. It seems the prince has no sense of taste at all.”
Poor thing.
As Iko muttered this, Kashmir let out a loud scoff. He started insisting that his sense of taste was perfectly fine—exceptional, even.
“When I say something is delicious, it really is. Everything you’ve cooked so far has been good.”
Iko was momentarily speechless. Even if that were true for her recent dishes, the ones she made at the beginning were intentionally awful.
“Especially lately—your cooking has been the best I’ve ever had. I’ve been thinking your cooking skills have improved remarkably.”
Kashmir’s praise made Iko feel a twinge of guilt. Uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, she changed the subject again.
“Why do you like fire so much? What’s so special about it?”
“Why do you keep changing the subject?”
This time, Kashmir didn’t let it go. Iko could feel his gaze fixed intently on her.
“I’m not changing the subject; I’m genuinely curious,” she explained, avoiding his eyes.
Kashmir studied her for a moment before shifting his gaze to the bonfire.
“I don’t know if you realize this, but merfolk believe that sea witches defy the natural order, that they’re blasphemous.”
Kashmir pointed to the fire with his finger.
“They say things like this shouldn’t exist. Fire shouldn’t be able to burn underwater, but witches like you light fires as if it’s nothing.”
“You don’t need to tell me that,” Iko replied with a frown.
The accusations of blasphemy and wickedness weren’t unique to merfolk—many others shared those sentiments.
When Iko was five, the villagers discovered that she was of witch’s blood. The adults in the village had seized her and thrown her into the sea.
Their faces, shouting to throw her quickly, bore no guilt—only fear that they had to eliminate her before she could cause harm.
Iko should have died in the sea that day. But she was fortunate enough to be found by Dalibaya, who was wandering through the ocean. She became the sea witch’s apprentice and learned everything, from knowledge to the mindset required of a witch.
“They’re wrong to say that what witches do is blasphemy. What we create are miracles.”
Iko spoke with conviction, consciously invoking Dalibaya as she emphasized the word ‘miracles’. It was almost like a ritual to help her take pride in her role as a witch.
“Miracles?”
“The merfolk are envious because they can’t perform miracles like we do.”
Iko assumed that Kashmir, being a merman, would never agree with her. But she felt confident in herself after performing this little mental ritual, no matter how much he might disagree.
“I’ve been trying to find the right word…!”
Kashmir suddenly sat up, nodding enthusiastically, as if something had clicked for him. He laughed with relief and joy.
“Miracle. Yes, what I’ve seen here isn’t blasphemy—it’s a miracle you’ve created.”
Iko, who had been bracing herself for mockery or dismissal, didn’t know what to do with his unexpected agreement.
“Are you really agreeing with a witch just because you like fire?”
A merman agreeing with a witch? Iko was confused as to why he was affirming her words. If that were the case, then he was wrong.
“The fact that we can breathe and light fires deep in the sea is a miracle created by Dalibaya, not me.”
Dalibaya had created an environment where one could breathe and light fires deep under the sea. Not only that, but she had also enchanted the ceiling to mimic the sun during the day and stars at night.
It was all Dalibaya’s doing.
“I haven’t created any miracles here.”
After saying this, Iko suddenly felt embarrassed. She had confidently spoken of “us,” but in truth, she hadn’t created any miracles herself. She was merely living off the miracles that the great sea witch Dalibaya had left behind.
“What about making my legs?”
Kashmir asked, looking at her sulking expression.
“Didn’t you make that?”
“That’s… true,” Iko realized.
She had almost forgotten, but she had already performed a significant miracle. She had nearly let herself sink into despair, forgetting all about it.
“See? I was right, wasn’t I? That was your miracle.”
To realize that from this naïve, straightforward, and somewhat foolish mer-prince—though it hurt her pride, she also felt a slight sense of gratitude.
It was annoying, but she might even consider making him another potion.
