Chapter 252: The Witch in the Corner

Within the royal palace stood a full-length mirror, reflecting the image of an exquisite woman dressed in a flowing blue gown. Yet despite her exaggerated beauty, Princess Elysia wore a troubled expression, she was uncertain how to face the decisions that lay ahead.

Beside her stood a young maid in a white dress, carefully grooming her hair. The blue gown hugged her figure tightly, and as the maid admired the near-perfect reflection in the mirror, she murmured, "Princess Elysia is truly stunning. No wonder Duke William is so enamored with her. He swore he would marry no one else in this lifetime."

Once her appearance was finished, Elysia gently dismissed the maid. "You may leave me now. I'd like a moment alone."

"But Princess, your hairpiece—"

"I'll handle it myself," she replied softly.

"Yes, Your Highness," the maid said, bowing and exiting the room.

Once alone, Elysia went to her bed and retrieved a pure white feather from beneath her pillow. It glowed faintly, as if plucked from the wing of an angel. Holding it in her palm, she felt a soothing warmth. She walked back to the mirror and tucked the feather into her hair. It looked awkward, but she didn't care. It brought her comfort.

***

Meanwhile, Jon arrived at the palace ballroom as promised. Although he wasn't particularly interested in the event, the chance for free food and drink was too good to pass up.

He had bought a suit that he thought looked decent, and tidied up as best he could, but still looked disheveled compared to the nobility and upper-class guests in attendance. Everyone here had received personal invitations from the king; people of status and power. Jon was an exception, but he didn't feel out of place. In fact, he figured they were lucky to be in his presence.

As the party commenced, Jon was wholly absorbed in devouring the buffet, eating so ravenously that he earned disdainful glances and muttered comments. Rumors said he had received the same white invitation as Duke William, but his conduct certainly didn't match the latter's elegance. Many thought the princess would surely choose the noble duke over a crude man like Jon.

While others searched for dance partners, Jon stood alone, indulging himself.

Then he stopped eating.

His gaze shifted to a figure in a corner of the ballroom, a woman in a voluminous black gown wearing a golden mask. She stood silently, watching the ballroom's inner doors, the doors reserved for the king and the princess.

Jon noted her weak life force. She was gravely injured, likely dying, yet she insisted on attending this ball. She must have some unfinished business.

He wiped his mouth with a napkin, adjusted his suit, and approached her.

Bowing respectfully, he extended a hand. "May I have this dance, miss?"

She remained silent, eyes still fixed on the door. Even as Jon stood beside her, she didn't react. But he instantly recognized her kind, forcing her to respond.

"What… are you saying?" she asked, feigning confusion, trying to deepen her voice. Her tone betrayed weakness.

Jon sighed. "If it were any other time, changing your face and voice would be simple for a witch. But you're too wounded to even cast basic spells, aren't you?"

Her large gown hid her body, and the golden mask concealed her face. But she wasn't trying to hide her identity, just who she was.

When she said nothing, Jon added, "Don't be surprised. I've met enough witches to tell them apart from regular people at a glance."

She relaxed slightly. So, he had deduced her nature because he recognized her as a witch, not because her disguise had failed.

All she had to do now was hold out a little longer. Just until he arrived.

"Please… keep this secret," she whispered. Her body suddenly weakened, and she nearly collapsed. Jon caught her.

"Don't worry, I won't say a word," he assured her, channeling a refined stream of magic into her body.

She felt a wave of energy returning. "Thank you."

Just then, the ballroom erupted into a stir. Several women even shrieked.

"Look! It's Duke William!"

All eyes turned to the entrance. A handsome, golden-haired man in a lavish suit entered gracefully. He was the idol of nearly every young woman in the kingdom.

The witch watched him briefly, her eyes filled with longing and envy. Then she looked away, resuming her gaze toward the inner doors.

"Tch. Showing up after everyone else just to make an entrance? What a poser," Jon muttered loudly. "I hate guys who try harder than me to show off."

The witch spoke to him again.

"Do you think he's a good match for Princess Elysia?"

Jon scoffed. "Haven't even seen her yet. But that guy? I could ..."

Then, he paused. He stared intently at Duke William and grinned mischievously. "No, wait... this guy... now this is interesting."

The witch shivered at his expression. His smile felt… greedy.

What was he planning?

***

At that same moment, Duke William sensed a sharp gaze piercing him. He was used to admiration, but this was different, this gaze was dangerous.

He looked toward the source and saw Jon staring back with an unsettling grin.

William knew his rival.

Before attending the ball, he had done thorough research. After all, Princess Elysia was the woman he had to marry, and naturally, that meant investigating anyone who might stand in his way.

But after completing his investigation, he quickly dismissed Jon as a threat. In his eyes, Jon only had military achievements to his name. In every other category, appearance, charisma, talent, background, he was inferior.

Yet now, the way Jon was looking at him stirred a deep, instinctive sense of danger.

William's attention was soon drawn elsewhere, however, as nobles eagerly surrounded him, introducing their daughters. While most people assumed William would marry Elysia, others saw opportunity: if Elysia chose someone else, perhaps their daughter would be next in line.

Not long after, the true hosts of the evening arrived, the King and the Princess.

Silence fell across the room as all eyes turned to the dazzling princess. Even William gazed at her with admiration.

Jon raised an eyebrow. "Well, at least she lives up to her reputation. Unlike that so-called Snow Queen," he muttered, visibly disgusted.

Beside him, the veiled witch's breathing quickened. Jon noticed immediately and turned to her.

"Don't tell me... you're into that old King? Seriously? I mean, sure, he's got that seasoned nobleman charm, but the guy's an elderly!"

The witch didn't answer.

The King, meanwhile, leaned in close to his daughter and whispered, "Remember, during this ball you may choose to dance with anyone you like. But in the end, you must pick one of the two suitors I've chosen."

Princess Elysia nodded silently and stepped forward, her eyes scanning the crowd.

William waited; confident she would choose him. But to his dismay, Elysia barely glanced his way before moving on. Panic crept into his chest.

Then, to everyone's surprise, the figure standing beside Jon, the black-clad guest with the golden mask, began to walk toward the princess.

"She's finally moving... All I have to do now is dance with her," the witch repeated in her mind.

At the same moment, the white feather pinned in Elysia's hair began to glow warmly.

"She's here," Elysia whispered to herself.

And then she saw her: the mysterious figure in the black gown, golden mask glinting under the lights, stepping closer with each breath.

The warmth from the feather grew stronger. There was no doubt.

The witch extended her delicate, trembling hand.

Elysia took it without hesitation.

Together, they began to dance.

Gasps rippled through the ballroom. Not only had the princess ignored William and every nobleman present, she had chosen an unknown stranger instead. Some might have accepted it if she'd picked Jon... but a masked guest in black?

No one was more stunned than Jon. Because he knew something others didn't: the figure in black was a woman, and a witch on top of that.

"Holy... crap," Jon muttered.

Princess and witch?

He stared, mind racing.

William turned pale. In his mind, Elysia was already his bride. Her choice felt like a stab on the back.

He looked at Jon, expecting to see him just as devastated. Instead, he found Jon smirking.

"A princess and a witch... Hah! Now that makes this party worth attending. This is getting good," Jon mused.

But the moment was short-lived.

Mid-dance, Elysia suddenly froze.

Her hand brushed the witch's back, and came away wet.

It was bloody red.

Her eyes widened in alarm. "You're hurt?! This badly?!"

Her gaze darted to the witch's back.

"Where are your wings?"

The witch looked down, saying nothing. Then, after a lingering glance at the princess, she turned and fled.

"Wait! Come back!" Elysia called after her.

But the witch was already gone, vanishing into the crowd like mist.

Elysia stood frozen, hand still stained with blood.

Jon scratched his head. "Wait... that's it? No dramatic rescue? No magical showdown? Come on, I was hoping for a proper wedding crash moment."

The King, meanwhile, had noticed the commotion and quickly approached his daughter.

"No worries, my dear. We'll find you another dance partner."

He scanned the room and quickly located Jon.

He grabbed Elysia and practically dragged her over.

To the King, Jon was a far more useful match. His military service outshone William's noble status. And while William was bound to the kingdom regardless, Jon was an outsider, marriage was the perfect way to keep him tied.

"Ah! You must be the infamous Ghost Knight," the King beamed. "Allow me to introduce you to my daughter."

He gave Jon a meaningful look, silently urging him to make a good impression.

Jon, however, put on a polite but strained smile.

"Heh... pleasure to meet you."

He cleared his throat. "Actually, Your Majesty... could you tell me where the bathroom is?"

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