The Witch is Tsun and Whimsical

On a large and fluffy bed, a simple but refined table had been set. The cheese that the room service had brought up was beautifully packed, and I was surprised to see that the colorful flower ornament that I thought was just added on for aesthetics was actually made of cheese as well. It was a luxury dish that appealed both the eyes and the stomach. It was incomparable to the violent assortment thrown together in the dining room.
It was all natural cheese, but unlike whatever it was they had down in the cafeteria, this cheese had a unique fragrance and taste that went great with crackers yet was light enough to be eaten on its own as well.
The taste was deep, fragrant, and rich in variety. In a word, “It truly fit its expensive price.”
“This would go well with some expensive wine,” I thought to myself as I drank some orange juice. I never thought I’d regret not having any of my cellar wine.

While enjoying such exquisite room service, I enjoyed a nice, long bath. After being tossed around in a horse-drawn carriage for so long, my body has become stiff, and I stink of sweat. Even if I stretch out my arms and legs a little, it cannot compare to the comfort of having all the fatigue melt away in the hot water.
This is the best room in the inn, so it naturally has a large bath that comes with hot water. No, it is natural that hot water would come out for an inn’s bathtub no matter what room you’re staying in, but Alexis’s face as he walked out of a cold bath has seared itself onto my brain. Rather, it might be better to say that I have started to count my blessings that I can turn the knob and have warm water come out of the spigot.
Then let’s finish bathing and start painting my nails with the nail polish I had bought in town. The clerk, although he had quite the dubious look to his face when I walked in, said pink was a good color that blended in well with the nails. After I finish my left hand, I get started on my right, and when I am all finished, I take a moment to admire how beautiful my nails have become. Then taking a small breath, I wait for them to dry.

Now that I have entered a time that I cannot do anything while my nails are still drying, I think about what to do next. I could go to bed since we will be leaving early tomorrow, or I could prepare some more ink for a spell … …
Then I waved my hands a bit with a *patapata*, and after confirming that my nails had dried and were no longer sticky, I pointlessly wasted my time lounging around in comfort. Then when I felt myself get a little thirsty, I reached out towards my pouch in the corner of the room.

Walking along with a *kashan kashan* down the hallway at night, I stop in front of the room that Alexis and Percival were staying in. I picked out and pasted a spell from my pouch onto their door when I heard the sound of footsteps, the door slowly opened in front of me.

“Miss Monette, what’s the matter?”

It was Percival who emerged from the darkness. His gold hair was wet, and what skin you could see peeping through his pajamas was still dripping, so he must have just gotten out of the bath. Monette took a step back when he first called her name, and upon seeing that, Percival quickly assured her that he was not sleepy.
Then he laughed and said, “I took a hot bath after a long time.”  After spending a long time suffering misfortunes alongside Alexis, it seems that he was close to making the terrible mistake forgetting the fact that hot water is warm. If there was a third party listening in, they would most definitely be wondering what this man was saying, but Monette understood his pain.

“So, did you need something?”
“Why I, it’s different…”

There really wasn’t any reason, Monette turned her face away inside her helmet.
However that type of attitude just gives off the opposite impression and says that there most definitely was a reason why she came. Percival tilted his head in curiosity. Another water droplet dripped from his hair, but he was too preoccupied with Monette to think about drying his hair.

“…..I just ended up here while walking.”

I complained about his sharp ears in my heart. I didn’t knock on the door, and I was just going to leave after I finished posting my spell. It’s awkward getting caught like this.
But if I say that, then Percival will never let it drop, and he might even find it suspicious, so I have to come up with some kind of excuse. And while I was struggling over this, Percival sighed and shrugged his shoulders.

“I become extremely sensitive to footsteps.”
“Footsteps?”
“…..Ever since a year ago.”

Monette muttered “Oh,” in her helmet. Percival didn’t say anything afterwards and didn’t look like he wanted to either. He turned his head away a bit, and his blue eyes narrowed with another sigh. He has probably been wary about trivial footsteps for the past year. His expression seems to say so at least.

Alexis does not have extraordinary bad luck.
Someone is artificially sending it, and it is a power even I don’t fully understand. In other words, there is someone with malicious intentions for Alexis. There is no guarantee that the person responsible might eventually decide to take more direct action. Alexis is constantly hit with bad luck, yet he never sustains great injury from the after effects. Still, it is possible that when he falls asleep ……. there is always such a possibility. You also have to take in the people’s possible actions when the unfaithful prince leaves the country.
Percival surely thought of such things and has been wary of every footstep in the night for the past year. He is the escort that protects the crown prince. But who is he supposed to protect him from? He doesn’t know, so he has to worry about every possibility.

Is could be the curse of a witch with a grudge or the machinations of an ordinary person.

Thinking about such things, Monette just shrugged her shoulders.

“Even though Alexis gathers poisonous moths and snakebites, he does not die, and even though he is constantly taking cold baths, he never even catches so much of a cold right? Ah, but if you hit him with a brick, that should kill him.”
“What a horrible thing to say…..”

Percival stared at me annoyed. His eyes changed from the previous fatigued look he had earlier to one that clearly wanted to chide me for my disagreeable words. I responded suitably–by sticking my tongue out underneath my helmet.
“Although, if it was Miss Monette, I don’t think you’d die even if you were to be hit in the head with a brick.”

“How rude. Witches are the same as human beings. They will surely die if beaten upside the head with a brick.”
“And people inside the country are likely to do so.”
“………who is inside?”
“By the way, why did Miss Monette come here in the first place?”

Percival muttered something troubling under his breath, but when Monette asked more about it, he quickly changed the subject to something else and gazed at the door. Thinking that he saw something, Percival took a half-step out into the hallway, “What is this?” ……and noticed the spell hanging on the door.
The curse depicted a curled up kitty-cat sleeping peacefully. It was the type of figure that when you see it, you just want to crouch down and give it a good pet.
Percival narrowed his eyes and stared at it for awhile. He observed it closely, tilting his head a little to an angle before finally saying, “All right. I give up. What is this?”

“……..A cute kitty-cat.”
“I know that. No matter how hard I look, I can’t see any resemblance to a cat, but I understand you draw cats. So, what type of spell is this?”
“……….It is a cute kitty-cat sleeping spell.”
“Okay, so what does it do?”

Monette glanced between Percival and the spell hanging from the door wondering how he could not understand the effect from the picture.
Percival misunderstood her reaction as being, “I’m not telling.” A merciless voice reached Monette’s ears inside her helmet.

“Don’t tell me……”
“It might be a spell with a good effect, or perhaps it is a curse that invalidates the curse-avoidance spell I placed earlier. Or perhaps it’s a spell with an even scarier effect.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I just tried wanted to write something since I bought some new ink. It might be a terrible curse, so if you don’t want to take the chance, go ahead and rip it off.”

Instead of explaining further or waiting for a reply, Monette turned on her heels and walked away from the door.
At that time, I heard Percival calling after me, but I pretended no to hear him and continued walking with my iron feet echoing *kashan kashan* in the hallway. I’m sure he will demand an explanation if I stop, so I should just hurry up and escape instead.

When I turned the corner at the end of the hallway, I had become completely invisible to Percival, and I ended up hesitating for a moment. Afterwards, I ended up taking a peek back round the corner.
The hallway was completely quiet and devoid of any figures. Of course that included Percival as well. I bet he returned to his room the instant I went away.
And at the door……was my spell.
It seems that he decided to not tear it off. It made me feel a little itchy, and I ended up instinctively scratching my head. Unfortunately no matter how hard I tried to scratch my head, as an armor girl, I just end up making a loud *gori gori* sound as my iron fingers scrape against my helmet.
Unfortunately I can’t clear up this irritating itch out hear, so I continue walking down the hallway to return to my room. While walking, I tried to take light steps to dampen the *kashan kashan* of my footsteps resonating in the hall.

“Witches are whimsical, and I just wanted to try out my new ink…….”

So I returned to my room while making excuses to nobody in particular.
At the back of my head, the itch is getting worse becoming a pain-like numbness that is more irritating than before. How restless, I am uncomfortable.

I wish I could have a good dream……..I wish I had never done something so stupid.
I told myself this before finally arriving at my room, peeling off all my armor, and entering my bed.