The witch and the poisonous apple

Roze tries blinking, thinking that somehow she is hallucinating—one, two, three—yet there he is. She isn't daydreaming.

Seven years ago, she didn't even dare to wish for today.

"This is an unusual kind of butter, isn't it…"

"Indeed, there's a mixture of apple in it—'Apple Butter', or so it was called. I heard it tastes exceptionally delicious when spread on bread."

"I see… this makes me happy, I love apples…!"

The small jar containing the white butter is clearer than the jars Roze usually uses in potion-making—and to Roze, it appears even more so, as if simmering.

While Roze stares at the jam, Harij cuts a slice of bread, and applies the butter using the wooden spoon.

Bits of apple can be seen on the glaze of butter—unknowingly, Roze swallows her saliva.

"Here you go."

"Thank you very much."

She holds the bread with both hand—it's even softer than I thought…

All this time, she has only ever eaten hard bread—the kind that usually goes with soup. This bread's softness almost makes it slip from her grasp.

The apple butter sparkles, and its sweet scent of apple tickles her nose. She takes a bite and swallows.

"—!!"

Roze opens her eyes in surprise.

She takes another bite, and again, it disappears just as quick.

"—!!"

Even the second bite shocks her.

It's too delicious.

Her mouth is filled with the soft, fluffiness of the bread.

It's not only soft, but also chewy…

That strange sensation, it's the first time Roze has tasted it.

The apple butter is more delicious than she expects. The mashed apple, along with the milky butter, create both sensations of richness and deliciousness—it's truly a dangerous combination.

Harij's watches Roze happily scarfing her food down with complex emotion. Looking back, it was truly an exhausting day for him.

—the Azm Family is one of the nobles which have been supporting the Marjan Nation since generation after generation. His family has even been recorded in books as one of the most influential aristocrats in the country.

Harij, born as the third son, was knighted at the age of twenty.

His main priority as a knight is to protect Princess Billaura.

Billaura is still young, but she has all the traits of a wonderful princess—an amiable personality, a charitable heart, and unending generosity.

Both Harij and the Second Prince are Billaura's childhood friends. Harij himself, whom had known the Princess since quite a young age, treasures her like a little sister.

Billaura also depends on him as if they shared blood, but never acts spoiled.

—Until that day.

"I ask this of you, Harij. It's my once in a lifetime wish.

I want you to think of this not as a princess' order, but as a little sister's request to her brother."

Billaura had requested Harij with eyes gleaming of determination, that, of a princess'. Yet, her voice was pleading, like a broken-hearted girl.

"Please, I want you to get me a love potion."

That kind of potion only distorts a person's mind and manipulates future actions—both against the drinker's will. Harij hates the idea of the Princess consuming such a thing.

However, he also can't reject such a heartfelt wish from Billaura—who's until now, has never shown selfishness in the slightest.

If the princess were to personally visit the witch, bad rumors would spread.

Hence, Harij slipped past the public eye, and visited the witch.