When Your Secret Crush Wizard Took a Love Potion - Chapter 29
The maid, flustered by the compliments, twirled a lock of hair near her ear with her fingers, while blushing.
“Both of you are enviable.”
I’ve always considered myself of average height, but standing next to Marca, who boasts a formidable physique, and the slim, tall maid, I suddenly felt a sense of jealousy.
Perhaps I was quite short after all.
Being tall is advantageous without a doubt. Observing Edgar from the sidelines made this clear: taller individuals have longer arms and legs, which broadens their range of motion and gives them longer strides.
Though Edgar’s height is particularly notable, walking beside him always made me wish I were just a bit taller.
“Personally, I prefer women who are shorter than me, ones that fit easily into my arms.”
Olio interjected suddenly, unable to contain his restlessness any longer. His comment, which I found completely uninteresting, made me respond mechanically, “I see.”
His shoulders slumped at the lukewarm response.
It was around this time that a subtle change appeared in the otherwise peaceful lake scene.
“What’s that…?”
I noticed that the clean surface of the lake now had transparent stones with a reddish hue floating about. There weren’t just one or two of them; they varied greatly in size from pebble-like to large enough to bump against the boat.
“Those are flowstones.”
Marca explained, following my gaze.
“Flowstones?”
“Lava rocks? You don’t know about them?”
Seeing my puzzled look, Marca continued in an even tone,
“In the western part of the continent, there are dozens, if not hundreds, of active volcanoes. Most are not threatening, but occasionally, lava expelled from them solidifies and drifts down to Lake Martin. Though they look rough and heavy, they’re hollow inside, which is why they float.”
I was aware of the western volcanoes from my studies.
Unlike the northerners, who focus on winter preparations, people in the west sweat under the scorching sun year-round due to the climate and geography.
The differences between the West and the North are clear: while the North experiences distinct seasonal changes, the Western continent is predominantly volcanic, making it generally warmer and hotter than the North.
“Have you ever tried Western food?”
Olio asked bluntly. I shook my head in response.
“You have to be careful what you choose. Their dishes are typically either salty, sweet, or fried. If you’re not careful, you might end up with a salt bomb.”
The climate differences affect the types of crops that can be grown and consequently influence the preferred flavors. In hotter climates, the appetite may decrease, and food preservation becomes more challenging. So the prevalence of salted or fried dishes in Western cuisine.
I had only read about these things in books, but experiencing them firsthand was a whole different story.
‘Fascinating’.
Maybe this is why everyone embarks on adventures with a map. I had never once wanted to leave my beloved cabin, but seeing and experiencing this unfamiliar external environment made my heart race.
“As we start seeing lava rocks, it looks like we’re getting close to the West. If all goes well, we should arrive in a couple of days.”
“I’m dying of boredom. Still two days to go?”
Olio complained, munching on almond cookies served with tea. He offered me a cookie.
“Do you want one?”
I accepted this time. While it wasn’t as good as the ones from the bakery in the village that I loved, it was sufficiently nutty and tasty. Olio, watching me eat, cleared his throat to change the subject.
“By the way, I haven’t even formally met your companion yet.”
He frowned.
“We haven’t even seen his face or learned his name. It’s unbelievable.”
Since we started our journey, Edgar had never taken off his robe in front of anyone but me. In reality, he had barely left the cabin, which was arguably quite rude to others.
I felt awkward but managed to reply.
“He’s quite shy.”
“Is it true what they say, though? That he’s your husband?”
The cookie in my mouth suddenly felt as hard as a rock. I managed to swallow it with some tea.
“Who said that?”
“I heard it and told the young master. Was I misinformed?”
I almost resented the maid for stepping forward at that moment, but it was clear who the true source was.
‘It’s that bastard.’
