The Red Witch - Chapter 21
So if the Red Witch was injured, her soulmate receives an identical wound?
“Ael is…?”
Kiara’s mouth fell further open in dazed shock. She still didn’t know exactly what a “soulmate” was, but it was clear now that something significant had happened between her and Ael. How did it even happen?
In her flustered mind, a memory from the morning of the wedding resurfaced — something Raelin had told her:
The first words a new bride speaks after the wedding must be heard by no one but her partner.
‘Was it because Ael heard me…?’
Wait, can those even count as “words”?
As Kiara retraced her memories, she could practically hear the moans from that night echoing in her ears. Even in that embarrassment, her mind began to argue seriously:
‘Wasn’t that more… a sound than actual speech?’
Then what does that even mean? So any sound, even something like that, creates a bond this serious? One strong enough to make wounds pass between people? What kind of absurdly vague rule is that? We’re talking about someone’s — possibly two people’s — fates, and it all hinges on this?
With a disgruntled expression, Kiara got completely lost in thought, forgetting her current situation.
‘No, no. In old legends and rituals, it’s not the form but the meaning that matters.’
A sound heard only by the groom, when the two are alone — was that meant to be…
‘…Ah.’
Kiara’s face went up in flames. Now she understood what that legend really meant.
It didn’t matter whether it was words or sounds. After all, once the coupling happened, the only things to come out of a bride’s mouth were moans and whimpers anyway.
‘This whole ‘soulmate’ thing, the rules, all of it — it’s just some mischievous old s-x joke dressed up as a sacred ritual, isn’t it?’
Ugh. I can’t handle this. I really can’t handle this. What kind of ridiculous world is this?
Though Kiara grumbled in protest, her face was already blushing scarlet. She tried to cover her face, but both of her hands were firmly held in Ael’s grip.
“Hold still.”
When she squirmed, Ael furrowed his brow deeply.
It was clear he didn’t much like having to hold her like this — understandable, considering just a moment ago he’d been talking about cutting her down.
‘Still… that wound’s deeper than I expected.’
Glancing briefly at the cut on his hand, Ael frowned. Since it was a mirrored wound, reflected from Kiara’s injury, hers must be just as bad.
Not that it mattered much to him. He was used to worse. He’d seen plenty of combat, after all. Slashes, gouges, torn flesh — this one was nothing. A clean cut from a well-sharpened blade, and he’d done a fine job oiling it that morning too, now that he thought about it. It almost felt like a point of pride.
‘But for her…’
Ael lifted his eyes just enough to study Kiara’s face. Her cheeks were flushed, maybe from pain, but not a single whimper or groan escaped her lips.
And yet, in bed, she’d come completely undone at the lightest touch.
Ael smirked slightly, one corner of his mouth lifting as he murmured:
“…Brave little thing.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Just stay still. Good girl, alright?”
“Let… let go of me….”
Kiara blushed slightly, feeling embarrassed by the way he treated her like a child. With her hand still held, she was suddenly more aware of how large his hand was.
For Ael, it was the opposite. Holding her, he realized how small Kiara’s hand was. Compared to his own, calloused and hardened from his experiences, her hand was soft and delicate. Even a small wound would quickly cause beads of blood to form.
Damn, for me, the bleeding would stop in no time.
“…Is it because her skin is fragile, or is it just that all witches have hands like this?”
Grumbling, Ael started to examine the wound. Kiara’s body was so soft and pliable that he even wondered if she had bones.
If her hands were like this, the pain must be terrible.
As he clicked his tongue, Kiara flinched and tried to pull her hand away.
“Stay still.”
Ael muttered irritably, tightening his grip on her hand. But then, realizing how fragile her hand was, his grip loosened, almost as if he feared he might break it. His touch became unexpectedly gentle, and Kiara gazed at him quietly.
‘…They said he’s a prince…’
Is this something he’s been taught? Surely, he couldn’t have become careful just because of me. Maybe it’s something he’s learning? Like how to treat women, or perhaps chivalry…
At any rate, it wasn’t bad to receive care for a change. She had mostly encountered people who threw stones and cursed at her before.
Perhaps it was because his attitude was different from his usual irritated tone, or maybe it was the reminder of the wounds on his own hand that made Kiara hesitate but then speak up to Ael.
“A-Ael, your hand… it’s hurt…”
“Shh.”
Ael whispered softly. At the same time, his grip on her hand tightened, almost as if telling her not to speak.
“…If you keep moving or let it go, it’ll tear open. Stay still.”
He soothed her gently, then lifted his gaze to look at Raelin.
“Raelin Verhenan.”
“…Yes?”
Ael raised his voice to call Raelin, who had fled earlier due to fear of the blood. She now seemed concerned about the wound, stretching her neck to look at Kiara and respond. Ael cleverly hid his hand from Raelin’s view as he spoke again.
“It seems you know that the witch’s blood is dangerous.”
“…Yes.”
“Then how about going quickly and bringing something to stop the bleeding? Before more blood flows. Muslin that’s been boiled and sun-dried, toadwort sap, and unused cheesecloth.”
Kiara stared at him blankly as he quickly rattled off his instructions. It wasn’t just about the medicine; it seemed more like he wanted to get Raelin out of the room as soon as possible. Only then did she vaguely understand his attitude.
He wanted to hide the fact that he had been injured.
