Silent Witch

Book 15: Chapter 7: Confession of a Deceased Old Woman, Wish of a Young Prince

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A letter was tucked into Felix Ark Ridill's diary. It seemed to be written by Marcy Abbott on her deathbed.

Scrawled there in a shaky hand, it said,

"These past few days, my cough has worsened daily, to the point where even getting up has become difficult. My life cannot last much longer. So before I breathe my last, I wish to record here the sins I committed, my regrets, all of it. I pray that whoever is reading this letter, is not the Duke of Crockford, but young Master Isaac.

I can still vividly recall the night His Highness passed away. That evening, at His request, I stood guard at the servants' entrance so he could view the stars outside. It was a cloudy day, yet why did His Highness insist so stubbornly on watching the stars outdoors? Whether I realized it or not, I should have stopped His Highness. Yet I merely indulged his adorable, childish wish.

Later, when I heard His Highness had fallen from the roof, my blood ran cold. I do not know why His Highness, who had gone out to see the stars, ended up on the roof. But I was utterly convinced it had to do with me letting him outside. I was utterly terrified. What if His Highness fell from the roof because of me? If the Duke found out, what punishment would I face?

Unable to bear the terror, I committed a sin.

His Highness always kept a meticulous diary. Perhaps he had written about asking me to stand guard. If anyone saw that Fearing this, I secretly took His Highness' diary. Once in my room, upon reading the diary, I learned a dreadful truth.

Knowing this truth, there was no way I could continue working at the Duke's estate. I was bound to betray my distress. The Duke would see through me. So out of self-preservation, I fled the Duke's estate.

Using a relative's connections to hide, I finally caught my breath after fleeing to the far north. Rereading His Highness' diary, I was overcome with regret. The diary's last pages were addressed to young Isaac Yet to save myself, I had taken this diary. I knew I had to show this diary to young Isaac, return it to him But I lacked the courage. I was too afraid of the Duke finding me.

Oh God. I wish, I wish that this diary could reach young Isaac. That kind, poor child Grant him solace"

The handwriting was terribly shaky and difficult to read. Whether it was from the severity of her illness or being tormented by past events, Monica could not tell. Monica returned the letter to the envelope and flipped through Felix's diary.

"Grandfather scolded me again today. Because I cannot ride horses well. I'm scared of riding and bad at it."

"Grandfather scolded me again today. For doing poorly on a test. The teacher was disappointed too. I have to try, try harder."

"Grandfather scolded me again today. Because I could not properly greet a guest. I get so nervous in front of people that I lose my voice. Why can I never meet Grandfather's expectations?"

Most of the diary entries began the same way.

"Grandfather scolded me again today."

Followed by a litany of his shortcomings, matching the timid prince Bridget had described.

But the diary featured another figure nearly as frequently as "Grandfather"his beloved servant Isaac.

"Isaac made me a rabbit doll from a handkerchief. When I said I wanted to make one too, he taught me how to make the simplest flower. I can't make them as well as Isaac yet, but if I practice, will I be able to make prettier ones?"

"I rode a horse for the first time! When Isaac holds the reins, even horses are amazingly tame. It's like magic. Isaac is amazing."

"I had a fever again. Spending the whole day in bed was boring, but Isaac told me all sorts of stories so I wasn't bored. Isaac knows so much."

The days he wrote about Isaac had a livelier quality to the writing. More notably, those entries often included sketches of flowers or horses alongside the textquite endearing.

"I made my first friend. My friend's name is Ike. A secret friend, only for when we're alone together. Ike calls me Ark. Ike and Ark. Just having our names rhyme makes me happy somehow."

From this day on, the name "Ike" appeared frequently in the diary.

Felix clearly differentiated between calling Isaac by his proper name and the nickname Ike when they were friends, almost giving the impression there were two separate people.

As one read further in the diary, an image of the young Felix emerged.

Timid, lacking confidence despite being royalty, just an ordinary young boy. His timid nature made Monica, being rather shy herself, feel a sense of familiarity.

Towards the latter half of the diary, an entire page was devoted to a drawing. It was clearly a conscientious effort by the prince to depict his ideal self.

Beside the drawing, he had written:

[The Ideal Prince]

Intelligent (can understand complex political matters)

Brave

Kind to everyone

Skilled with swords and horses

Skilled at hunting

Can use lots of magic

Can greet people confidently (without stumbling over words)

A strong chess player (better than Elliot)

Can skillfully praise ladies (without upsetting Bridget)

Skilled at dancing (can lead well, won't step on partner's feet)

Can do all sorts of things like Ike

And a little encircled flower symbol was marked next to "Kind to everyone."

Perhaps he really was the gentle prince that Bridget and Elliot described.

As Monica turned the page while pondering this, her eyes went wide.

The diary abruptly ended on the very next page.

"How can Grandfather was considering something truly horrific. Using Isaac as my body double. Altering his face, giving him the same scars as me, even abandoning his name. Having Isaac take my place at all official functions.

Grandfather said I am no longer needed.

Isaac knew everything and stayed by my side.

What should I do? My head is spinning."

The words were blotted in places, the paper wrinkled surely from fallen tears.

The Duke of Crockford had outright told Felix he no longer needed him.

For the young boy who had cried and tried so hard just to be praised, and acknowledged by his grandfather, those words must have been utter despair.

When he learned his kind attendant was to become his body double, how devastated he must have felt.

Yet the gentle prince harbored no resentment toward anyone, even in his sadness and despair.

"I want to free IsaacIke.

Ike is so capable, he could have become anything. But because I was so dependent on him, I ended up binding him to this estate. Making him take on this painful role.

If this continues, Ike will truly lose his freedom.

Before that happens, I I'm going to defy Grandfather.

If I explain it to Ike verbally, kind Ike will surely try to dissuade me.

So I'll leave my parting words in a letter, or else my resolve may waver.

I hope Ike can gain his freedom and find his own path in life.

And"

Upon reading the final line, Monica's eyes went wide.

Huh? But Elliot said Ike was

To Monica, the diary seemed to contradict what Elliot had said about Ike.

She reread the final passage over and over, then realized,

Ike had misunderstood something.

Her heart pounded, blood rushing faster than usual through her veins. Welling up from her depths was an intense, resolute impulse.

I have to show Ike this diary

Within Monica, the desire to help Ike transformed.

Into a determination to help Ike, no matter what.

Carried by Casey to an empty room, Nero was very satisfied with her treatment of him.

First of all, her way of holding him was stable, and her technique for stroking his fur was skillful.

Some human children tend to grip tails too tightly or stroke fur the wrong way, but Kaycie stroked along the grain, gently and thoroughly. It felt wonderful.

This woman's a technician, all right

As Nero purred and trilled contentedly, Casey even prepared boiled preserved meat with the salt removed to make it easier to eat. Of course, she didn't forget to let it cool to avoid burns and shredded it for easier consumption.

Truly someone who understood how to treat a cat, thought the Black Dragon Wogan, Nero, who had once swallowed a live bird whole. For the record, Nero enjoyed both heavily salted meat and completely raw ingredients equally.

As Nero ate, Casey muttered wistfully, "Hey, did Monica say anything about me?"

Nero paused eating to let out a meowing sound, prompting Casey to laugh awkwardly, "Ahaha, of course, a cat wouldn't understand."

Nero knew Casey had been friends with Monica back at Serendia Academy.

He also knew Casey had told Monica "I'm not your friend" when they parted ways after the attempted assassination incident.

Humans really are such tiresome creatures.

Nero could not comprehend the human tendency to let positions or titles get in the way of expressing goodwill toward someone they felt positively about.

After all, Nero knew that Casey had gifted Monica an embroidered handkerchief she made herself. And that Monica had been overjoyed by it.

Even today, Monica kept worrying on Nero's back as they flew, wondering how she would handle it if Casey treated her coldly.

Nero was tempted to point out that Monica seemed concerned only with Casey, to the point of nearly forgetting her original purpose for coming.

However, for now, Nero could only play the role of an adorable black cat. Revealing all that would be out of character.

"Um, sorry to keep you waiting"

There was a knock at the door as Monica peeked in. It seemed her errand was finished.

Seeing Nero eating the meat, Monica's eyes went a bit wide. "You got a meal? Ah, Casey thank you."

"Don't worry about it. Do you want some too, Monica? It's just simple rations, but"

"No, I have to hurry back, so"

"I see."

An awkward silence fell between the two.

As the sensible familiar that he was, Nero decided to take matters into his own paws.

Nero leaped towards Monica and deftly pulled an item from her pocket with his front paws. A handkerchief with a floral embroidery pattern dropped to the floor.

"Wha-, ah, umm"

Monica hurriedly picked up the handkerchief, her gaze darting back and forth.

Casey stared at the handkerchief as well, her lips pressed into an awkward line.

C'mon, say something, just say it Nero batted at Monica's rear with his paws, urging her on.

After an "auu auu" struggle, Monica seemed to steel her resolve and forced out the words,

"Th-Thank you for the handkerchief!"

Casey was momentarily dumbstruck before letting out a laugh, her shoulders shaking.

"You still stutter when you get nervous, I see."

"Auu"

Monica fidgeted, twisting her fingers shyly as she smiled back.

"You know, before I leave there's something I want to tell you, Kaycie."

"Well, I may only be a novitiate nun now, but it's still a sister's duty to listen to a wayward lamb's troubles."

Her reassuring older sister-like smile was the same as back at the academy when she looked at Monica.

Looking relieved, Monica took a deep breath before speaking.

"You see, I might end up doing something that others would see as wrong."

As a dragon, Nero had difficulty comprehending human concepts of "right" and "wrong" behavior. To him, all actions were simply a matter of "doing what is necessary" rather than judging them as right or wrong.

However, humans constantly grappled with their own sense of righteousness, tormented by conflicting notions of what constituted correct conduct. It was such a conflict that had previously turned Monica and Casey into adversaries.

"What I'm going to do will definitely be seen as wrong by everyone, I think."

Yet Monica declared this to Casey, her former adversary,

"But I promise. I absolutely will not allow war to come to this country."

Listening calmly to Monica's confession and resolve, Casey responded with a fearless smile.

"I, Sister Casey, give you her blessing. Do as you see fit If it's something you've decided of your own will, Monica, then see it through to the end."

With a small smile, Monica nodded at the powerful words of the sister.