Really, had she gone mad? She couldn’t even go to a fruit shop alone and always had to ask Mark to go in her place, yet what on earth had she been thinking when she stepped in here?Maybe it was just because it was Edgar’s boutique that some unexplainable courage had sprung up. But of course, even here, her existence was not welcomed at all.A momentary impulse, the desire to attend the party and see Edgar, and the unexpected generosity that had grown without her realizing it—because it wasn’t just any day, but her coming-of-age birthday.The courage born of those feelings lost its light, small and miserable, before the beautifully dressed women.“Uu….”When she came back to her senses, a suffocating wave of shame hit her hard. She couldn’t understand herself—why she had done something like this—and her breath came short and tight.Far too late, after the realization struck her, Angela pulled her cloak’s hood down lower and began to retreat step by step.“That witch must be here to buy a dress for the party, right? The only party worth attending right now is Edgar’s birthday party. There’s no way a witch would receive an invitation.”“As if she’s a witch for no reason. If it’s that wicked witch, getting her hands on Edgar’s invitation would be easy.”“My goodness, imagine if Edgar knew. How horrifying it would be—having a witch attend such a celebratory occasion!”“Truly. Or maybe she’s planning to cast curses on the invited guests? With Edgar’s reputation, that party will be crawling with prey for a witch.”“Shh, don’t say it out loud like that. She might curse us right this second.”“Let her try. I’m not afraid at all.”The young ladies, who had shown a slight hint of fear at first, began openly laughing at her once they saw Angela shrink back. They must have realized that she could not harm them.The moment they recognized they were in the position of the predator, they bared their teeth and tore into her without hesitation.Right. I shouldn’t want anything. Why did I come here? What did I think would happen?Unlike the delighted young ladies, Angela—confronted again by ridicule and hostility she hadn’t felt in so long—only wanted to escape from this place.It was her fault for becoming light-headed by Mark’s praise of today’s masterpiece and by the excitement of receiving Edgar’s invitation every year without fail.To wish for what must not be wished for—that was something that could never be allowed to Angela Faber.“Oh my, are you leaving? Have a pleasant day!”Leaving behind the cheerfully bright farewell from the clerk, Angela fled the boutique and broke into a run.She felt no hatred or resentment toward those who had mocked her inside the shop.She only wanted to turn into dust and disappear from the world entirely.***Even the royal palace’s birthday celebrations likely were not this grand.The chandeliers glittered as though they were dripping with precious gemstones, and the hall was extravagantly filled with fresh flowers and antique ornaments—there wasn’t a single corner that had not been meticulously arranged.On top of that, party dishes made from the finest ingredients covered the tables in an astonishing variety.“Well now, Your Highness the Prince. It’s outrageous this year too, hm?”By the time the party had reached a comfortable peak.Having finished greeting each guest individually, Edgar approached the group of social club members he often spent time with.A relationship too ambiguous to be called friendship, but too familiar to draw a clear boundary.After dancing with more ladies than he cared to count and clinking champagne glasses while maintaining a mechanical smile, he was extremely tired.“Looks like you've been enjoying yourself.”Dealing with people through practiced politeness was exhausting, and Edgar was tired down to his core.“Well, your parties always exceed expectations. One can’t help but enjoy them.”“That’s fortunate, then.”With a faint laugh, Edgar sat back on the sofa and took the whiskey offered to him by Cantor, the second son of the Marquis of Albatross, down in a single swallow.His throat, dry from a day of constant talking, felt the slightest relief.“So, Edgar. How does it feel?”“What does?”“What do you mean, how does it feel to have nearly been cursed by a witch!”The topic dominating tonight’s party was the rumor that the witch said to be born of a wooden doll had come to Edgar’s party to cast a curse.“She’s not a witch. She’s a perfectly ordinary person.”“You always defend her like that, don’t you? What matters is that that terrifying woman had her sights set on you!”The story of Angela stopping by the boutique to buy a dress had spread throughout society in an instant.The witch who made dolls more human than humans.Rumors about the overwhelming effectiveness of her so-called “curse dolls” had led to whispers that there were countless buyers in the shadows, seeking her work.And the usual malice followed: that her face was hideously twisted from the backlash of curses and therefore always hidden under a cloak; that she could speak only in spells; all sorts of venomous nonsense trailed her reputation.“All she did was try to respond to my invitation.”“What? You sent an invitation to that witch?”“She was in the noble registry.”People didn’t care for whether things were true.They believed what they wanted to believe, and even if they learned it wasn’t true, they simply shrugged and moved on. Even if someone was hurt because of their ignorance.“That witch is a noble? Don’t joke.”“Yes, Edgar. Have you gone mad?”“You didn’t get yourself brainwashed by the witch, did you?”Even when the facts were corrected plainly, they paid no attention and instead burst into laughter among themselves.Seeing they had no intention of believing him, Edgar casually picked up another glass and drank.He felt no need to press the matter again.“That time you helped her two years ago—strange, wasn’t it? Maybe you were already bewitched back then.”The incident with the boy and his father had caused quite a stir two years ago.Even to Edgar, his intervention that day had been out of character.Perhaps he really had been bewitched. The momentary glimpse of that pale face beneath the cloak, contrasted with that black hair—somehow it had moved him.“Hah. As if His Grace the Duke could be taken in so easily.”“Oh, no, my friend. We are speaking of a witch. Edgar is but a man. How could he resist a witch’s spell?”“Quite so! Otherwise, there’d be no reason for Edgar to defend such a woman. Sending her an invitation? Truly absurd.”Their laughter and banter went on without any value for Edgar to join in.He disregarded them and reviewed the useful information he had gathered today in his mind.Whether he paid attention or not, their chatter continued.“But really, aren’t you curious what the witch wanted? I rather hoped she would actually show up.”“Obviously her aim would be our handsome prince here. Our Duke’s appearance is rather dazzling. A woman might foolishly dream of romance with him.”“Ugh, Grace. Try not to travel alone from now on. The witch might drag you away before anyone notices.”At that point, ignoring them had its limits. They clung to the topic of the witch, swinging between mockery and ridicule, as if it were endlessly amusing.“Stop talking nonsense and shut up.”At Edgar’s flat words, the space fell silent for a brief moment. But rather than back down, they grew even more animated.“Oh? Suspicious. Edgar—don’t tell me you actually have feelings for that witch?”“Our unmatched libertine? Impossible. Unless—ah, °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° perhaps his mind is already under the witch’s spell. Otherwise, why defend her?”“Oh dear, Albatross, don’t say such horrific things. That would mean Edgar isn’t in his right mind. Bewitched!”“My, don’t misunderstand, Your Grace. I didn’t mean it that way. I only raised a small question, since it’s so unlike you to defend her.”He hadn’t defended her so intensely, yet somehow the atmosphere leaned decisively toward the idea that Edgar had been bewitched.He tried to let it pass, but the assumption that such a thing was easily possible with a witch’s power slowly began to grate at him.

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