Chapter 14: A ‘Free Gift’ Is Always a Surprise

The maid melted back into the inky darkness of the corridor.

In the deepest shadows of the corner, another figure in a maid’s uniform was squatting, her attention fixed on some unknown task. A faint, arcane light flickered around her, intricate runes bubbling to the surface of reality like shimmering ripples on water, appearing and vanishing in a hypnotic, endless loop.

“I’m surprised you knew that girl’s favorite dessert,” said Number Six, the one on the ground, without looking up. “Was she also a target?”

“No, she wasn’t.” Number Eight leaned against the wall, her eyes closed in a state of feigned rest. “But she was Number Nine’s target, and Nine was my partner once. I picked up a few things.”

“Number Nine… I remember the report. Mission failure…”

“It was that girl. Nine was two entire realms of power above her and still got herself killed in the counterattack.”

“…” Number Six fell silent, returning her focus to her delicate work.

As the seconds stretched into an eternity, Number Eight finally grew impatient. “How much longer? Our window is closing.”

“Almost there.” Number Six was drenched in sweat, her face pale with exertion, but her concentration was absolute as she tirelessly worked to dismantle the magical ward. “This was set by the ‘Lion King’ Rhun Campbell himself. It’s a colossal piece of magic covering the entire estate. Creating a breach without him noticing is no small feat.”

“You need to hurry.” Number Eight’s hidden gaze was fixed on the closed door of the room. “If Ewan Campbell or Princess Celicia decides to come out for a stroll, our mission is over.”

“I know. But I think we have plenty of time.” A strange, knowing tone entered Number Six’s voice. “Those two… are currently quite busy with… that kind of thing.”

…

Ewan stared at the door with the desperate, fervent hope of a devout believer praying for a miracle.

Unfortunately, no miracle was forthcoming.

His one and only savior, the mighty protagonist Ariel, did not appear.

“So… hot…”

Instead, Celicia’s soft moans grew more frequent, each one a nail in the coffin of his meticulously crafted plan. It seemed she could wake at any second.

“It’s over…”

Ewan covered his face, ready to weep with pure despair. It was official: there would be no miracles tonight. Without the protagonist’s timely arrival, the “Ruin” storyline would dissolve into nothing, and his own destiny, like a truck colliding with an immovable object, would plunge headfirst into the “Death by a Thousand Angry Cuts” storyline he had so desperately tried to avoid. He wouldn’t even have to wait for some unknown future assassin; the moment Celicia regained consciousness, her first act would undoubtedly be to turn him into a very dead, very handsome ice sculpture.

Wait a minute. She’s been moaning for a while now. Why hasn’t she actually woken up?

Having calmed down just enough for a single neuron to fire, Ewan had another flash of insight. It was common knowledge that people often groan subconsciously when waking from a deep, unnatural sleep. That’s why he’d been so panicked.

But no one groans this many times before waking up. Unless, of course, they’re having a very, very vivid wet dream.

Celicia was the Ice Witch; a wet dream seemed highly unlikely. So there had to be another explanation.

And…

“So… hot…”

Ewan glanced at the fireplace. The flames were still burning brightly, but because of the supernatural frost Celicia had unleashed earlier, the room was still decidedly cold. At least Ewan, who was now shirtless, felt a distinct chill. Celicia wasn’t wearing much more than he was. So why would she be hot?

The moaning. The heat.

Could it possibly be…

Gulp…

Ewan swallowed hard, a wild, horrifying, and frankly terrifyingly exciting thought storming his brain. Determined to prove his own absurd idea wrong, he began to cautiously inch closer to the sofa. He had been keeping his distance, terrified of being in the blast radius when she woke up. Now, as he drew nearer, her form came into sharp focus.

“No way…”

The moment he truly saw her, Ewan’s heart didn’t just skip a beat; it performed a full-on panicked tap dance against his ribs.

“Ngh… so hot…”

Celicia’s eyes were still tightly closed; she was not conscious. But her silvery lashes fluttered, her entire body was flushed with an unnatural, feverish crimson, and her long, slender legs were twisting together restlessly. Her hands clawed unconsciously at her own dress, pulling the already disheveled garment into a state of even greater, more scandalous disarray.

“No, it can’t be. It’s not what I think it is!” he babbled to himself.

“This is just a side effect of the sleeping potion! Yes, a normal, predictable side effect!”

“A cold bath! A cold bath will fix it right up! That’s it! That’s how it always works in those novels!”

“Hold on, Celicia! I’ll get you to some cold water!”

Completely losing his composure, Ewan frantically reached out, intending to scoop her into his arms and carry her to the nearest bathroom to wash away the “side effects.”

But he never made it.

A slender, pale hand shot out and clamped around his wrist like a shackle of ice.

Celicia, at some point, had truly awakened. Her eyes were wide open, staring straight into his. They blazed with a furious fire, but in a blink, the anger melted away, replaced by the wide-eyed, bewildered look of a lost rabbit caught in the headlights.

“Um… Your Highness! Please, allow me to explain! You simply had a bit too much tea and became intoxicated. I was just about to escort you to the bathroom to help you sober up,” Ewan babbled, his legs beginning to tremble uncontrollably. “But since you are awake now, I will no longer disturb you. I’ll just be on my way.”

He tried to flee. He could feel the situation spiraling into a five-alarm catastrophe. No matter how much his brain tried to deny it, seeing Celicia in this state, there was no mistaking what had happened.

It was an aphrodisiac!

That “little gift” from the scumbag shopkeeper was a goddamn aphrodisiac! So that’s what she meant by a “miraculous effect”! A sleeping potion mixed with an aphrodisiac! You’ve got to be kidding me, you damn swindler! I WANT A REFUND!

He had to get out of there. Now. If something “wonderful but actually life-endingly terrible” happened with Celicia right here, Ewan couldn’t even begin to imagine a future where he survived. The best-case scenario was probably a slow, painful death by a thousand cuts.

But unfortunately for him… escape was not on the menu.

Celicia’s small hand was clamped around his wrist like a vise. It looked so soft, so delicate, yet it felt like an iron shackle forged in the depths of a frozen hell. This was the raw, terrifying difference in their power. Ewan was once again reminded that the beautiful, blushing woman before him was, in fact, strong enough to snap him in half.

Escape? Not a chance in this lifetime.

“Um… Your Highness! Please, calm down! You must calm down! With your legendary willpower, you can surely fight this off!” Ewan’s survival instinct kicked in, and he could only place all his hopes on Celicia’s own self-control.

Her gaze flickered between fiery clarity and hazy confusion. But Ewan could see with horrifying certainty that even in her lucid moments, the anger in her eyes was beginning to transform into a completely different, far more dangerous kind of fire.

“You can do it, Your Highness! Don’t surrender to a mere potion! You can—”

Thump!

His motivational speech was abruptly cut short.

The world suddenly tilted, spun, and then slammed back into focus.

When he came to his senses, he was utterly shocked to find that their positions had been completely, and devastatingly, reversed.

Ewan was now the one lying on the sofa.

And Celicia, her hips swaying with a hypnotizing, graceful rhythm, was sitting on top of him.