“Mmm….”

How did this work again? It had been so long since she had chopped anything without magic that the hand holding the knife trembled. Tap, tap. She moved the knife carefully, but the vegetables would not cut cleanly. She glanced back over her shoulder. The child was still looking out the window. She turned back and gave a quick, furtive flick of her hand.

Tap tap tap. The knife moved beneath her fingers and cut through the ingredients at a satisfying pace. She was watching the sight with quiet pleasure when a small voice came from below.

“Um….”

“Oh, oh!”

…Good grief, what a fright. The child who had been sitting on the bed looking out the window was now standing right beside her. Selene pressed a hand to her chest. She was so accustomed to reading the hearts of humans and sensing their presence that having a human she could not read standing soundlessly at her side felt deeply disorienting. She pushed down her startled expression and smiled warmly.

“Oh, what is it?”

“I…. I’ll do it.”

“…Hm?”

“The cooking.”

“…What? What do you mean?”

The boy gave an awkward nod and gently nudged her aside. Selene stepped back, and the child picked up the knife and began to chop. The movements were practiced. Selene was momentarily speechless.

“No, wait….”

“It’s all right. I’ll do it.”

The child glanced at her cautiously as they spoke, and Selene could not bring herself to stop them. She lowered her hands. Watching that, she thought she understood. Had this child perhaps been made to do housework like this all along? A dull ache spread through her chest. She stood and looked slowly at the child before her.

A body so thin it seemed to have nothing but skin stretched over bone. Skin covered in wounds. The bruises scattered here and there softened her heart further.

‘Right, how could a child like that be an Offenburg? There is no way an imperial child would look like this.’

Without thinking, she reached out toward the arm of the child who was cooking. The moment her warm fingers made contact, the child’s face scrunched up sharply and the knife slipped from their grip.

“Ugh….”

She caught the knife with magic before it could clang to the floor, drawing it toward herself, and let out a sigh.

“See. It still hurts, doesn’t it? You are a patient. Go lie down in bed right now.”

The child fidgeted and brought their hands together below their stomach. She looked at the child gazing up at her with the expression of someone about to be scolded, and slowly stroked their hair. Poor thing.

“Don’t worry. I won’t throw you out for not working. Once your body heals, you can help me then.”

She smiled and murmured it lightly, and the child gave a small nod. The careful, watchful way they made their way back to the bed reminded her of an abandoned stray cat. For Selene, who lived among humans and cared for them, the sight was too pitiful to bear. Her heart stirred without her meaning it to, and she sat down beside the child, who still looked uneasy even lying in bed.

She gently pressed her fingers to the wounded forehead and whispered softly.

“Would you like to sleep for a bit?”

The child’s eyes turned toward her with a restless look. The way they stayed on edge, alert to everything around them, left a bitter taste in her mouth.

“If you sleep well and wake up, there will be a warm soup waiting for you. Then we can have a light bath and sleep again. How does that sound?”

She stroked the child’s forehead as she spoke, and the rigid breathing slowly eased. The cracked, bleeding lips relaxed, and a soft, wheezing sound came from the child. Only then, watching the child fall asleep with the ease of a young child, did Selene draw on her magic again and wave her hand.

She woke the child and fed them her special carrot soup, then sat them down in a chair.

“Is there really nothing you remember?”

“…No.”

“Not even how you got hurt?”

“No….”

“Hmm. I see.”

Selene nodded. There was a contradiction in what the child said. The hands that had held the knife earlier had clearly known what they were doing. She could plainly see the child was not telling the truth, but she chose not to press further. It seemed there was something they wanted to keep hidden.

“Well, if you can’t remember your name either…. Would it be all right if I gave you one while you’re here?”

She rested her chin in her hand and shrugged. The child looked at her with a surprised expression.

“Let me think. How about…. Hmm. What do you think of ‘Emil’?”

The child’s eyes held her gaze. For the first time since she had taken this child in, she saw something positive in those eyes.

“I like it.”

The child nodded and spoke, and a faint light came over their face. A pleased warmth settled over Selene’s face as well. It reminded her of a wary stray cat finally pressing its head against her ankle.

“Then it’s settled. Emil. Oh, and I’m Selene. Hmm…. I don’t use a family name, so just Selene is fine.”

She concealed the name Hecate, the name shared among her sisters, and smiled as though it were nothing, running her fingers over the child’s wounds. Not a single one had closed. Her magic clearly was not reaching this child. So it would likely take quite a long time for all of Emil’s wounds to heal.

It was strange that the wounds still refused to heal even after the child had survived death, but she did not want to dwell on it.

Even if she changed her mind later. For now, she only wanted to think about this child getting well.

Selene Hecate was kind to humans. To young humans especially, she was kinder still. Looking at young Emil and smiling gently, her face showed no trace of the worry that had troubled her before.

* * *

“Emil….”

The boy quietly repeated his own name. His eyes blinked once, slowly. Selene had stepped out to the village for a moment. She had said she was going to buy medical supplies for his wounds. When she offered to take him along, he shook his head. There was something he needed to do while Selene was away from the house.

Emil’s gaze moved slowly around every corner of the room. He had sensed it even through the haze, but the woman who had saved him did appear to be the witch from the rumors. A witch. A being everyone feared. But if there was one being in the world that had no reason to fear a witch, it was Offenburg. 

He had been discarded and raised on the fringes of the imperial palace and had never been taught anything properly, but he was still of Offenburg blood. He had grown up unwanted, surviving on scraps of attention in the palace, yet even he could not have failed to know about the history between witches and Offenburg.

‘If she finds out I am a child of the imperial family, she will send me away again.’

The boy’s eyes darkened. A useless name, a bloodline that helped him in no way, and even here it was catching at his ankles.

The boy stared blankly outside. The memories of how he had ended up here were hazy. The memories of how he had survived to reach this place were hazy too. One thing was certain: the two days he had spent here were warmer and better than any memory from his entire life.

“I don’t want to go back….”

Emil dropped his gaze. He looked down at his own body. For some reason, the old wounds that had long since scarred over hurt more than the fresh red ones newly covering him. He traced the scars on his body that Selene had tended to with such care, and gripped the blanket she had tucked around him.