CHAPTER 456: THE WITCH

The word "sister" that had slipped from the young girl’s lips seemed natural to her yet utterly unnatural to all who heard it. The room stilled, breath caught in throats, eyes darting between the two women as if trying to spot some illusion, some trick of the light that would make sense of the impossible.

The eldest, who was clearly the witch invited by Princes Syla and Simon, was known by a handful of people in there, so they had a respectful attitude towards her, but the little child? None had ever laid eyes on her before.

The elder witch, ancient beyond reckoning, barely reacted. Her weathered face remained impassive, lined with more years than anyone dared guess. It was said she had witnessed kingdoms rise and crumble, had known the world before the rivers had carved their paths, and the mountains had settled into their roots. And yet, standing before her, the younger girl bore the bloom of youth ... skin smooth, eyes bright, untouched by time’s cruel hand.

"Whose child is that?"

"Get her away from here...."

"This is no place for a child!"

"but... something is not right!"

Many voices shouted out, almost at the same time, but something was off. The child was too calm for a ’child’. There was no intimidation in her stance, no confusion for lack of adult supervision... instead, there was a slight familiarity and maybe even mockery in her eyes that did not match her age.

The elder witch, a woman whose name was whispered in legends and whose existence had probably outlived most recorded history, did not so much as twitch at this.

On the other hand, the child looked exceptionally pleased with herself, rocking back and forth on her heels, completely oblivious to the existential crisis she had just thrown the entire room into from that single word.

"Sister?" one Fae finally choked out, staring between the two as if waiting for reality to correct itself.

The elderly witch breathed out softly, her eyes reflecting a nearly patronizing patience. Recognizing this gaze and its implications, the child giggled, embodying her youthful role by twirling a lock of hair. "They’re simply confused." "Clearly."

"You should tell them. They invited you anyway, so you should."

"Should I?"

The two continued to talk as if they were the only ones listening.

It only took a split second of exaggerated thinking gesture before,

"Probably not. They might faint. Heheheheh...."

The audience did, in fact, look the part being described

Another Fae finally found the courage, or sheer desperation, to speak.

"But .... but how is this possible?!" The interaction was as if they were equals and there fore did not make sense.

"She’s a ... she’s a child!... how can her sibling be that old? Is this some sort of a prank?"

"Yh, we are here for a coronation; you have no time for this wordplay!"

The elder witch cast a glance at the little one, who responded by attempting to look sophisticated, which mostly involved puffing out her chest and cheeks and trying but failing to keep a straight face.

"A child?" the elder witch mused.

"She is. And yet... she isn’t."

Her tone was filled with envy and longing, amongst other things. The room collectively decided that was the worst possible answer. She had said nothing, but this was a revered witch, so they decided just to let go.

Among most things, the Faes did not make the connection that if the older-looking one was a witch, then so was the younger one. Everything would have made sense with that little detail, but they failed to see past the cute yet playful child.

Just then, the child grinned. "You all think too hard. We don’t age like you do.... And that, of course, is my sister. Why wouldn’t she, when we’re from the same parents? She’s actually my baby sister."

Someone swayed on their feet. Another mumbled something incoherent. Others burst out laughing in disbelief.

The elder witch simply smirked. "Now, do calm down. It’s not that shocking."

The silence that followed suggested otherwise.

"Are you still going to embark on this fool’s errand, little sister?"

A murmur rippled through the onlookers.

Some seriously thought that this was a jest of a sort, but no other theory existed at that moment, for she did not seem like a Fae child, too, and she had come out of nowhere!

They turned expectantly to the old witch, thinking that she would quash the absurdity that was happening, but the old witch only tilted her head slightly, amusement flickering in her tired gaze.

"Why does that trouble you so?" she mused, her voice a slow, measured drawl that sent a shiver down spines.

Shelby stared at the younger girl. Her gaze was locked on the back of her hand, especially the tattoo that was imprinted there.

’Is she who I think she is?’

The younger witch, unbothered by the weight of their stares, merely shrugged.

"Because they are bound by time," she said, glancing at the dumbfounded faces around them.

"We .... Or most importantly, I am not."

A silence fell, heavier than before.

’It is her!’

Shelby distinctly remembered meeting the timeless witch once... but then, she was a ’young woman!’

"So, it’s all true? She is the Timeless witch?"

Unknowingly, the words slipped out of Shelby’s mouth in her haze and given the fact that the room was in stunned silence, almost all relevant ears heard it."

"W- itch? So, it’s true?"

The little girl turned to Shelby and curtsied,

"Nice to meet you again, Shelby."

"Shelby?" Prince Simon was the first to talk. He was more engrossed in his new wife than the issue of who was a sister to whom. Even with this, it took a while before it dawned on him,

"That’s your name? Shelby? That’s a very beautiful name for an equally beautiful female!"

"What the heck? The prince does not know the queen’s name?" someone asked, drawing weird gazes from all. That was indeed puzzling. How could he?

At the comment, Prince Simon flicked his wrist with casual arrogance, and the unfortunate soul, who had been at the back of the gathered, was sent hurtling through the air by an invisible force, crashing into the nearest wall with a sickening crack. A strangled gasp escaped the injured man as he crumpled to the ground, his body twitching in pain. A splash of blood spurted.

A smirk curled on Simon’s lips as he turned back, along with a feeling of satisfaction. He was fully expecting Shelby to be shaken, awed.... even terrified.

But alas .... she wasn’t even looking at him. His gaze still softened as he followed her line of sight, only to see her eyes lingering on the witch child. This greatly disappointed him because he had thought that by the display of power, he was impressing Shelby.

The need to prove himself had been instinctive, but it had not rendered what he was looking for.

His smugness faltered. Shelby had not even faked a single flinch, not a glance, not even the slightest acknowledgement of his display. It was as if he were nothing more than an insignificant passing breeze.

And that? That stung more than it should have.

Shelby’s gaze lingered on the Timeless Witch. For some strange reason, Shelby felt happy to see this known-unknown face at that time. She knew the witch was deadly and still wary, but Shelby could not help herself.

That instinct had been an impulse woven so deeply into Simon’s being that he barely recognized it for what it was. He had not noticed that he had gone from, ’SHE WILL BE MY QUEEN’ to ’PLEASE be my queen?’

It was as if proving himself to her was not just a desire ... but a necessity. Desperation was seeping into him.

It made no sense.

Why did he care? Why did it bother him that she hadn’t reacted? That she hadn’t so much as spared him a glance?

His fingers twitched; his jaw tightened. The urge to command her attention burned through him like a fever. He had sent one of his own flying across the room and injured him, all for her to look at him. And yet, she remained indifferent, unmoved.

It was infuriating.

And worse .... it made him desperate.

"Guards! Give her the fetal-ridding medication! Force it down her throat if you have to!"

The whole Faes gathered took in after shocking breath. They had wanted to believe that the rumour that the Queen-to-be belonged to another was false, but did Prince Simon just confirm that?

Even Ash shot a glare at her son. She shot a desperate look at him, trying to get him to behave as he should, but Simon was not in the mood for that. All his thoughts were filled with Shelby.

The Timeless witch smiled and shook her head. Then she turned to her sister,

"As a Timed Witch, you should have seen the most out of this life, .... Are you really going on this fool’s errand?" She asked yet again, but her sister smiled, showing rotting, black teeth.

"Hehehheheee.... Why are you trying to be nosy for once in your life?"

"Nosy?" The timeless witch scratched her nose, and then turned to take a seat,

"Don’t tell me that I didn’t warn you, little sister,"

She added, with her gaze lingering on the livid Prince Simon.

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