The mansion employed three people. Vienny had no idea how much Hans and Corinne earned, but she’d heard that Moiria’s services came at a high price. Could they afford to keep them all? Or was it even her responsibility to worry about their wages? But since she lived here, she couldn’t just ignore it.

Having never dealt with such practical matters, Vienny couldn’t even guess what the average person’s living expenses were.

When she’d lived among the witches, her duties as Great Witch had consumed all her energy; everyday matters had been left to others. Later, her time in prison had rendered such knowledge useless.

But now…

“Inquisitor.”

“I told you, that’s not my favourite title…”

“You were the lord of Rave Castle, weren’t you? Is it… empty now?”

Seeing Vienny’s increasingly serious expression, McClart put aside her interruption and answered seriously.

“I gave it to someone else.”

“I see.”

“…Would you prefer it if I were still the lord?” he murmured, narrowing his eyes and clicking his tongue, as if it would be troublesome to reclaim it.

But Vienny didn’t answer. She had drifted back into her own thoughts, suddenly aware of a problem she hadn’t considered before.

McClart had no castle, no profession, and only this mansion left to his name. He had turned the world upside down and ended up nearly penniless, while she remained blissfully unaware, living her days in leisure. The realization struck her like a cold splash of water.

Although Vienny was once the Great Witch, only Chiron’s clerics or those directly involved in the Tempe witch hunts would recognise her. To most ordinary people, like Corinne, she was just a young woman from the city. Ordinary people thought of witches as monstrous, demonic beings, so it was unlikely that anyone would associate her with the title.

Recognizing that she needed to find a way to support herself, she felt her body tense with newfound resolve.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Don’t worry.”

“About… what, exactly?”

“I’m sure there’s something I can do.”

Realising that they might not be on the same page, McClart decided to keep quiet for the time being. Corinne had been the one to leave abruptly when she saw him earlier; it might be worth tracking her down to find out exactly what she and Vienny had discussed.

Unaware of McClart’s intentions, Vienny pressed her lips together with newfound determination. Sewing was out of the question, but with so many jobs in the world, surely she could find at least one she could handle.

* * *

To hope for a future, it seemed, was to carry a bundle of worries.

In the past, when all she’d thought about was burning the land and facing her end, she hadn’t realized just how many concerns life could hold.

The more she discovered what she couldn’t do, the longer her list of worries became.

“Miss…”

By now, Corinne looked too exhausted to offer any more advice. Vienny had managed to burn about three pieces of meat.

They’d opened every window and even the side door to finally clear the kitchen of the smoke that had filled it. The charred, unrecognizable meat was beyond saving and definitely unfit for the table. Perhaps if they tossed it by the roadside, some stray animal might take an interest.

“It’s fine! Grilling meat is a skill in itself. It’s natural not to be perfect right away!”

“…Didn’t you say even a child could handle cooking meat?”

Corinne silently cursed her past self for insisting that grilling was the simplest task imaginable. He hadn’t thought it possible to mess up this badly! All it should take was flipping the meat when it looked done!

Watching Corinne’s guilty expression, Vienny sighed and backed away, her shoulders slumped.

“I guess… cooking isn’t for me.”

“Wise choice, Miss!”

“Yes. You taught me it’s better to quit quickly and focus on one’s true talents.”

Corinne felt like a terrible sinner. Vienny accepted her failures without a hint of sarcasm, calmly resigning herself, which only made her guilt deepen. Realistically, she had no reason to feel this way, but she couldn’t shake it.

Feeling a growing sympathy, Corinne offered her genuine encouragement.

“I’m sure there’s something out there that’s just right for you, Miss.”

Vienny gave her a slight nod at her comforting words, then turned away, a resigned look on her face.

No matter what she tried, household tasks just didn’t suit her. Cleaning the entire mansion, for instance, took far too long because of her limp, and her lack of physical strength made her laundry efforts inefficient—Corinne often had to rewash everything. Cooking, which she’d been somewhat hopeful about, was equally disastrous; even when following Corinne’s instructions exactly, things always turned out wrong.

Corinne gently suggested she try a hobby, like reading or playing an instrument, but to Vienny, these options seemed just as impractical.

She could read, but only at a basic level, and she had never even touched a musical instrument. Corinne, who thought of her as a sophisticated, city-bred lady, couldn’t imagine this.

More than anything, she didn’t want to take up a hobby – she wanted to be useful!

At this point a feeling of self-doubt set in. How could it be that there wasn’t a single thing she was good at?

Was she really a person of no value unless she was the Great Witch?

The unbidden thought sent a chill down her spine. Vienny clasped her hands tightly, feeling sweat gather in her palms.

…If she held no value or purpose without being the Great Witch, then what was left for her?

The more she dwelled on it, the tighter her throat felt. Instinctively, she went out to the garden—a familiar place of solace.

She crouched in her usual spot, quietly watching the tender green sprouts emerging from the soil. Before long, a well-fed dog came slinking up to her side.

It was a stray she’d found while walking near the mansion a few days ago. The dog had followed her so persistently that she hadn’t been able to turn it away, and they had decided to keep it on the estate. In just a few days, it had filled out, now looking plump and healthy.

Animals still showed a subtle interest in Vienny, even though she was no longer the Great Witch. They no longer fixated on her blood, yet they didn’t seem hostile toward her either. This dog was no exception.

Eager to show affection, the dog nuzzled against her with its entire body. It was a fairly large dog, and with its strength, Vienny had no way to resist.

Surprised and crouching defensively, she staggered and then fell.

“Ah, wait…!”

Just as she was about to be smothered by the dog, eagerly licking her face, a strong arm intervened, lifting her up in one swift motion. Her perspective shifted upwards and a familiar scent surrounded her.

“See? I told you it needed a leash.”

 McClart muttered, clicking his tongue as he shot the dog an annoyed glare. The dog, sensing his mood, tucked its tail and glanced nervously at him.

McClart tolerated its presence only because it hadn’t shown aggression. If it had, he would have dealt with it immediately for safety’s sake.

“You can put me down now.”

“When it leaves.”

“It’s gentle; it doesn’t bite.”

McClart pretended not to hear, his expression unchanged.

Vienny glanced down at the dog, which, though eyeing McClart warily, still wagged its tail softly whenever it met her gaze. It didn’t seem inclined to leave anytime soon.

Irritated by the dog’s unwavering affection toward her, McClart simply turned and carried her away. There were, after all, plenty of other spots in the garden to sit.

Only when they reached the small, wisteria-covered pergola in the center of the garden did he finally set her down, speaking in his usual blunt tone.

“Didn’t you say you wouldn’t come to the garden today because you’d be learning to cook?”

There was a hint of disappointment in his voice, as if he’d missed her presence in the garden. Over the past few days, he hadn’t interfered with her attempts to learn from Corinne, although he hadn’t exactly helped. It was almost as if he disapproved of her efforts; whenever he had the chance, he’d appear unexpectedly, as if he’d been watching her all along, ready to step in if she needed rescuing.

One day, Corinne had quietly confided in her, complaining that the master kept prying into their conversations. It seemed McClart wasn’t content with merely watching her; he wanted to listen in on every word.

Vienny had never seen McClart with so much free time. His newfound idleness struck her as odd, even a little worrying.

“Don’t you have anything to do, Inquisitor?” she asked, hinting at her worry.

McClart’s brows furrowed.

“Did you want to come to the garden alone in the first place?”

“No, that’s not it…”

How was she supposed to explain this? Vienny looked down, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“It’s just… Inquisitor, you…”

Just as she was about to ask if he wasn’t concerned about the future, McClart spoke up first, sounding annoyed.

“How long are you going to keep calling me that?”

“What?”

“I’m no longer an Inquisitor.”

A flicker of discomfort crossed Vienny’s face. She blinked quickly, then furrowed her brow and carefully lowered her voice.

“I’m sorry.”

He was no longer an Inquisitor, nor the lord of Rave Castle. McClart was now a man without faith or title, jobless and adrift.

Reminding herself of this only made her feelings more tangled. Just as she felt lost without the identity of the Great Witch, he too must feel unsettled, having lost his place and purpose. It was no wonder he grew irritated whenever she called him by a title that no longer held meaning.

Hadn’t he already turned his life upside down for her? She, the cause of it all, didn’t need to keep reminding him of what he’d sacrificed.

Perhaps he already regretted everything he’d done. Without the power of the Great Witch, she was practically useless. And if his lack of physical affection since his return stemmed from these feelings, then…

It was useless now, even for the simple task of warming a bed.

“You still haven’t found a suitable title?”

“I’ve given you permission to call me whatever you like.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Instead of asking why she was thinking about it, McClart frowned and remained silent.

Noticing his vaguely dissatisfied expression, Vienny instinctively watched his reaction, but he showed no sign of raising his voice or getting angry – just a hint of frustration.

“You still think I…”

He seemed on the verge of saying something, but then he fell silent.

Clenching and unclenching his fists, he finally took a step back.

“If you want to be alone, then do as you like.”

With his lips pressed tightly together, he turned away and walked off before Vienny could even attempt to stop him.