The Red Witch - Chapter 23
“Fantastically! Marvelously! Truly!”
Ael watched her quietly as Kiara fired off her praises with great enthusiasm.
Halfway through, she started to wonder if she was overdoing it, but technically, none of it was a lie.
Besides, it was oddly fun. Like language practice, really.
The only problem was, she hadn’t been studying the Bretnaic standard dialect — the language of Altnebra — for very long. Her vocabulary was embarrassingly limited.
To make matters worse, her language teacher had been none other than Madam Raelin who, in all fairness, seemed more concerned with feeding her properly than teaching her.
As a result, the adjectives Kiara managed to string together started veering into strange territory.
“Um, um… and… sweet, delicious… no, that’s not it. Well-fed? No, that doesn’t work either. Full? Or maybe… stuffed?”
It wasn’t wrong, per se. When learning a new language, food-related vocabulary was usually the first to stick. And it had been satisfying.
But somehow, none of it seemed appropriate for the current context. Even as the words left her mouth, Kiara could feel her face growing warmer by the second.
“…Something you crave again and again? Mouthwatering…?”
And as if things couldn’t get any worse — Ael, the mountain beyond the mountain, seemed to be picking up on the nuance just fine.
He didn’t interrupt. Just kept that maddeningly calm expression, letting her dig her own grave as she went on.
Until finally:
“…Like something I want to eat… again…?”
“…That’s enough.”
Ael rubbed his face with both hands, like a man doing a dry wash, and let out a long sigh. That was when Kiara, mid-recitation of praise, finally clamped her mouth shut.
It had been the moment she’d said want to eat again. Something in Ael’s red eyes had darkened — no, deepened. The faint crease between his brows pulled tighter, and for a second, he looked genuinely angry.
She flinched. But… why? The knife was already back in its sheath. She hadn’t even said anything that bad, had she?
‘At which exact word did I lose him? Was it the “again”? The “want to eat” part?’
Kiara instinctively tried to shuffle back a step, but her hand was still caught in his. Not that she could have escaped anyway.
The smile that had lingered on Ael’s face a moment ago was gone without a trace. His eyes narrowed, and the corner of his mouth twitched upward at an angle that didn’t look friendly.
“Shxt.”
Oh no. A curse word…
Kiara blinked, wide-eyed. He must be angry.
Was it the food metaphors? Did I push it too far?
‘…Right. I mean, fair enough. Saying I want to eat someone, that he’s mouthwatering, that I’m craving him — yes, maybe not my finest moment.’
Still, why was his grip tightening?
Startled, she gave a nervous tug to free her hand, but he only held on harder.
The pressure made her uneasy, enough that she tried pleading.
“Let… let go, please.”
“No.”
“You—You’re mad… You’re scaring me.”
“Mad?”
When Kiara pouted in protest, Ael tilted his head slightly, then let out a small chuckle. Only then did the tension in his face soften, and Kiara, catching the shift, allowed herself to relax. But she shouldn’t have. The moment her guard dropped, Ael pulled her in by the wrist.
“Ah!”
It wasn’t like earlier, when he’d handled her gingerly, mindful of her injuries. This time, he used sheer force and Kiara, caught off guard, was dragged straight into his chest.
She landed against him with a soft thud. The feel of his leather armor pressed against her back through the thin robe she was still wearing. Thanks to Madame Raelin’s relentless breakfast ambush, she hadn’t had the chance to change. The armor was rigid, cold, unfamiliar against her.
She flinched at the contact, shoulders tensing. Sensing it, Ael tightened his arm around her waist and murmured low against her ear.
“You really might be a witch after all… That enchantment was something else.”
His breath tickled at the edge of her ear, strangely warm. The contrast to the chill seeping through her back made her shiver without meaning to.
“En—Enchantment?”
“Well, maybe not that. It’s probably just… because you’re my soulmate.”
So this is what being bonded feels like.
Ael muttered it like someone who’d been tricked by fate — not quite angry, not quite resigned. And then, without warning, he brushed his lips against the curve of her ear.
“Ah.”
Kiara flinched. It wasn’t a bite, not really. Just the faint pressure of teeth through the cushion of his lips, barely enough to sting. It shouldn’t have hurt, but the soft, damp heat of it sent a ripple through her like a struck chord.
Too tender to call pain. Too vivid to ignore.
Her shoulder twitched again. The sensation wasn’t even sharp, just… oddly electric. Everything about her felt too awake.
A strange ache began to stir low in her belly, or more precisely, between her thighs.
Kiara, caught off guard by her own distraction, stumbled through her words.
“…Can I ask you a question…please?”
Ael was still lazily nibbling at her ear, like he was savoring the rim of a wine glass or perhaps a ripe fruit, when he breathed out a reply.
“What?”
“…What does soulmate mean?”
He froze. Just like that, every movement stopped. But he didn’t answer either, and Kiara, puzzled, blinked up at him.
Had she unknowingly cast that enchantment again? Or maybe undone some curse she never realized she was carrying? She’d been told she possessed tremendous magical power or something like that. And yet here she was, no wiser than before.
Just as she was wondering about the nature of her great power…
“…Ha.”
Ael’s laughter brushed against the shell of her ear, low and barely audible, and she scowled.
What was so funny?
It might’ve been a stupid question to him, but how was she supposed to know?
She was a foreigner in this absurd place with its absurd customs. Was she really expected to be fluent in its every weird ritual overnight?
Her pride prickled. She narrowed her eyes and grumbled again, more firmly this time.
“Why are you laughing? What even is a mat—mph!”
Her words vanished into the press of his mouth against hers.
