“Are you familiar with witches?”

Witches? The unexpected word prompted Helia to ask for clarification.

She understood the term. Witches were women believed to wield sinister magic, known for curses and black arts, hostile to the world. While similar to male sorcerers in using magic, they were treated in stark contrast. Sorcerers said to have founded the empire alongside Emperor Alexander were revered and served in the imperial tower until their lineage died. On the other hand, Witches were seen as harbingers of misfortune, executed by burning at the stake upon discovery.

As witches had hidden their identities to survive, no one could say whether their lineages had ended. But since the world was now devoid of sorcerers, it was assumed witches had also vanished—until Lette brought them up.

“Are you saying… you’re a witch?”

Lette smiled in affirmation. It wasn’t the kind, nurturing smile Helia was used to. Her eyes were bold, and her lips formed a steadfast curve, confident and unyielding.

In stories passed down through generations, witches were always villains—wicked beings who cursed their foes and devastated cities with terrifying black magic.

“Are you afraid of me?”

When had she ever acted like a meek lamb? Lette’s sharp gaze swept over Helia as if scrutinizing her. Her fierce smile, which seemed capable of unleashing curses at any moment, was an added bonus.

However, Helia felt no fear. After all, she’d seen through her from the beginning. Moreover, there was no trace of malice in Lette’s violet-tinged eyes, no matter how hard she tried to intimidate.

“Not really. I already knew you weren’t a saintess,” Helia replied in a calm, indifferent tone. To her, Lette had always been a constant—an unsettling presence bathed in a persistent violet hue. Learning that he was a witch’s mark hardly made her more fearsome. It only clarified what that violet light represented.

As if awaiting this response, Lette continued in a pleased voice.

“And that’s why I always wanted you as my liege.”

“Sure, so… wait, what?“

“Did you know? You were the first to see through the facade of the saintess I wore.“

Helia let out a dry laugh. The first time she’d called Lette out, the latter had vehemently claimed to be a saintess. And now, she was saying she had secretly desired to serve her as her lord? The contradiction was absurd. How much had Helia lost because of her? She glared at Lette in sheer disbelief.

“This is ridiculous. Then what was all that pretense for?”

“I needed to survive.”

“…“

“To survive, I couldn’t approach someone like you who knew my true nature. So, I could only watch from afar. As I saw you grow increasingly isolated, I truly pitied you. When you cast yourself as the villain, I sincerely lamented it.”

For a moment, Helia was at a loss for words. Lette’s heartfelt confession—that her vulnerability had kept her a mere observer—struck a chord.

“And so, I gave up on you. I couldn’t entrust myself entirely to someone of your caliber.“

“Was that your way of testing me?“

“Please think of it as prudence.”

Lette lowered her head in a gesture of remorse, and Helia scrutinized her.

It was odd. Unbelievably, the deep violet color no longer felt unpleasant. Instead, the purple light in her blue eyes shone desperately as though pleading for recognition. Like a shooting star on the brink of fading, its explosive brilliance momentarily disoriented her.

Helia blinked slowly, her thoughts racing. Her hesitation didn’t last long. In fact, perhaps this was inevitable. It felt as though her very abilities had been tailored for this moment.

“It’s irritating. Knowing someone’s been observing me as a test subject.“

“I can only apologize for that. But, Your Highness, even someone like me cherished my life. I wanted to live… no matter what.”

Helia understood the desperation to cling to life and the urgency to survive at any cost, even at the expense of others, better than anyone.

Ah, I see. You and I are alike. Despite causing each other so much misery, they were fundamentally similar, and Helia couldn’t deny it. She was the only one who could fully understand Lette. And precisely because of that, she was the only one who could pull Lette out of the cycle of despair.

“In that case, I’ll make it so your life isn’t so precious anymore.“

“What?”

Lette looked at her, baffled. Helia scoffed instead of explaining. True to the defensive instincts of someone accustomed to a precarious existence, Lette clenched her fists, suspecting Helia might mean to kill her. If necessary, she would fight and flee. But there was no hostility in Helia’s arrogant, towering stance.

Lette forced herself to endure and waited for Helia’s following words. Unfazed by Lette’s anxiety, Helia propped her head on one hand, lazily tapping her temple with her fingers.

“If there’s no threat, there’s no need to hide or be so cautious, right?“

“What are you saying…?“

“I’ll build a new nation. A nation that will be founded on the power of witches.“

It took Lette a moment to grasp the meaning of her words, and her mouth fell open in astonishment.

A nation that openly acknowledged witches and their contributions—a revolutionary idea in a world that had never shown witches anything but hatred. From the nobility to the poorest peasants, everyone despised them. Lette wondered if she’d misheard.

It was regarded as ominous, even though their powers were practically no different from those of sorcerers. Because of this, all witches instinctively knew they had to hide themselves. They lived as quietly and inconspicuously as possible, scattered here and there. Despite their immense power, such cautious behavior was the only way they could survive.

And yet, the woman before her was saying she would embrace them. She spoke of using their power freely and coexisting with them. Did she truly understand how difficult and monumental such a decision was? Did she grasp how absurd yet awe-inspiring it was for someone to declare they would accomplish what no one else had ever dared to do?

“Your Highness…”

Tears welled up in Lette’s piercingly clear blue eyes, even as her eyelids turned red. She was holding back her tears. Helia watched her without missing a single detail, her expression calm and impassive.

“It will be… a challenging path. It may even be impossible.”

Lette barely managed to speak, her throat tightening with emotion. In response, Helia laughed heartily like a victorious general returning from battle.

“Well, I’m already called a tyrant for the ages. Adding a witch to my side won’t change much, will it?“

Isn’t that right? Helia’s gaze asked the question, but Lette couldn’t answer.

Lette felt herself drawn to Helia without realizing it. Ah, she thought, there’s no way I could be anything but loyal to this woman. Maybe I was born a witch, for her sake. Or maybe she was born for the sake of someone like me. Perhaps we were meant to complete each other. This nonsensical idea of mutual reliance strangely felt entirely convincing.

“Besides, wouldn’t a country like that attract witches living in hiding? If we gather their strength, we could create a nation stronger than any other.”

Watching Helia, who already seemed to envision such a future with certainty, Lette could only smile. Helia didn’t stop there.

“Don’t you think so, Lette Klein?“

“…Your Highness.“

Lette’s throat tightened painfully, almost preventing her from speaking. Helia had done more than strip her of the half-baked title of saintess; she had restored her surname. It was a name she hadn’t been adequately addressed by since her father’s disgraceful death. By calling her that name, Helia acknowledged Lette for who she was.

It was strange. The overwhelming joy she felt made her want to cry. Lette felt like she could kneel right then and there to kiss Helia’s feet, though she knew Helia would undoubtedly recoil in shock.

Instead, Lette expressed her emotions through words she knew Helia was waiting for. Rising to her feet, she dropped to one knee before Helia, assuming the posture of someone swearing allegiance. Helia recognized the gesture instantly.

“I pledge my undying loyalty to you and you alone, my liege.”

As though she had been waiting for those very words, Helia grinned at Lette. The beginning of the foundation for a new nation was pitifully modest and profoundly significant.

***