Chapter 4: “Idiot.”

The witch’s sudden, unannounced stop caused Aurora to lurch forward uncontrollably from inertia, her soft, ample chest pressing straight into Aivira’s back.

“What’s wrong, Miss Aivira?” Aurora asked in confusion.

Why did she suddenly freeze up just from hearing her name?

Could it be… she knew her?

Aurora began mentally combing through everyone she had encountered over the years, but still couldn’t match the witch before her to any face in her memory.

“Aurora… Aurora… should be…”

Aivira mumbled to herself as if trying to recall something.

Then suddenly, a flash of realization hit her.

She clapped her hands together and exclaimed, “I remember now! My teacher mentioned that name once!”

“She looked absolutely terrifying when she said it too! She even said if she ever saw her again, she’d tie her up and drag her back, no matter what.”

“That resentment… even a grudge spirit would say it smelled rich! Ugh, I still get chills thinking about it. Just how much did my teacher hate that person?”

She turned to look at Aurora again.

“Don’t tell me… you’re the one my teacher was talking about?”

Aurora froze.

She was now absolutely certain who Aivira’s teacher was.

“Maybe… it’s just a coincidence,” Aurora replied with forced calm, discreetly wiping the cold sweat from her forehead.

“Yeah, you’re right. What are the odds I’d actually run into her, haha,” Aivira laughed it off.

But she had run into her. Fortunately, this witch didn’t seem all that sharp.

If she had been any smarter, Aurora might already be tied up and on her way back to her former host, Beatrice.

During her time with Beatrice, Aurora had come to understand that her temper was… far from pleasant.

She was mercurial and easily angered, often flying into a rage for seemingly no reason.

Even something as innocent as Aurora chatting with someone else could provoke a furious outburst.

So during that time, Aurora had always walked on eggshells, terrified of upsetting her.

And her sudden disappearance—though it had been to protect Beatrice from the curse—would Beatrice see it that way?

Would she ever forgive her?

Before secretly slipping away, Aurora had already expressed her desire to leave to Beatrice.

But Beatrice had become furious and flatly rejected the idea, even saying, “If you dare run, I’ll do whatever it takes to catch you!”

With no other choice, Aurora could only wait until she was asleep and sneak away quietly.

If she were to appear before Beatrice now, Beatrice would surely be livid and demand to know why Aurora had left.

But more than her anger or scolding, what Aurora truly feared was the possibility that being near her again would bring her more misfortune.

If possible, she too wanted to see Beatrice again.

But knowing full well that her presence could bring Beatrice harm and still choosing to see her… wouldn’t that be far too selfish?

‘Please forgive me, Beatrice,’ Aurora silently apologized in her heart.

If one day, Aurora could lift the curse upon herself, then she would return to see them again—Beatrice, Lora Belle, and the duke’s household…

The sky had darkened.

The moonlight grew thick.

By the time they reached their destination, Aivira was completely exhausted.

Controlling the broom consumed not only magic but also mental energy, and now she lay limply against Aurora’s shoulder like a jelly-like slime that had lost all its bounce.

“Ugh… so carrying two people is this draining, huh?”

Even though the new semester hadn’t begun, Aivira already felt like she had turned into a salted fish.

“Aurora… I think I’m just not cut out for this. Maybe I should just go back home and become a farmer,” she murmured listlessly, as if she’d lost all motivation.

“Please don’t say such defeatist things…”

Aurora sighed and gently lifted the now-limp Aivira into her arms.

Though Aivira was only around one and a half meters tall and had a petite frame, her heavy witch’s robes and the bundle strapped to the broom would have made it difficult for even a grown man to carry her.

But for Aurora, it was as easy as cradling a child.

“Hehe… Miss Aurora, you’re so pretty…”

Nestled in Aurora’s arms, Aivira was like a kitten being held—her hands continually fiddling with the strands of Aurora’s hair that draped over her shoulders.

Though Aurora had never received formal magical education, she recalled Beatrice once telling her:

When a person’s mana is severely depleted, it can cause neurological disturbances.

Some people show signs resembling intoxication, while others might fall into deep sleep or even lose consciousness.

She figured Aivira was acting like this for that very reason.

“Please don’t play with my hair like that, Miss Aivira…”

“I’ll find an inn for the night. Let’s stay here and rest for now.”

Cradling Aivira, Aurora picked a nearby inn that offered lodging, booked a room, and decided they would spend the night there.

It took quite some effort to finally calm the noisy Aivira and lull her to sleep.

Only then was Aurora finally able to rest in peace.

*****

“Aurora… Aurora, wake up!”

Aurora, still in the midst of a deep dream, was suddenly shaken awake by a female voice.

Rubbing her eyes, she looked up at the owner of the voice.

“What is it, Beatrice…?”

Glancing at her pocket watch, she added sleepily, “Isn’t it just two in the morning?”

Beatrice, already dressed in a black witch’s outfit, looked at her with clear irritation in her eyes.

“Idiot. Did you forget? The gates to Silent Night City only open during the night!”

“Oh… right, I think I remember now,” Aurora let out an embarrassed chuckle.

“If you remember, then hurry up and get dressed!”

Beatrice roughly threw a pile of black clothes onto Aurora’s face.

Aurora quickly got dressed and slung her bag over her shoulder, preparing to head out.

“Wait a minute!”

Just as she was about to leave, Beatrice’s sharp voice stopped her cold.

“W-What is it now?”

Aurora turned around to face her, a confused expression on her face.

Beatrice walked over, let out a helpless sigh, and said:

“You idiot, you didn’t even realize you put your clothes on backwards.”

“Backwards??”

Aurora looked down at her collar.

“…Oh, looks like you’re right. Hehe.”

She gave a sheepish laugh.

This clumsy side of her wasn’t anything new.

Ever since she started traveling with Beatrice, she’d managed to make some kind of silly mistake almost every single day.

Aurora set her bag down and began to take off her clothes to fix the mistake, but Beatrice’s voice stopped her again.

“I’ll do it. You dummy.”

From her oversized sleeve, Beatrice drew a wand and gave Aurora’s outfit a gentle tap.

In no time, the black dress began to unravel into thin threads, disassembling themselves in midair before weaving themselves back together.

Within moments, the dress was restored on Aurora—but now it was no longer reversed.

“Whoa…”

Aurora spun around in front of the mirror.

Not only was the dress correctly oriented now, but it had also changed into an entirely different style.

It looked more like a black formal gown.

At some point, a black ribbon had even appeared in her hair.

“Hehe, it’s so pretty! Thank you, Beatrice!”

Aurora hugged Beatrice in delight, rubbing her soft cheek against Beatrice’s silky hair.

“Good grief… With how hopeless you are, I can’t even imagine what you’d do without me. Just stay by my side for the rest of your life, you dummy.”

Beatrice’s words were a mixture of exasperation and affection, her voice tinged with indulgence.