Witch's Daughter And The Devil's Son Chapter 5: The Unknown Masculine Voice

The facade of the pitiful victim that the Second Princess wore vanished from her face, replaced by sheer fury. "How dare you?! They are right! You can't possibly be my sister. You are just an ugly witch!"

My particular sister struggled to contain her emotions, anger most of all. It made me ponder—if she were the witch rather than me, we might all be long dead by now.

Yet the instant she cursed me, the flowers within her bouquet withered away.

All eyes shifted to the flowers. One woman jabbed a finger at them, eager to stoke the flames higher. "See, this is the witch's doing! She can't even spare those poor flowers."

"It's not me but her foul mouth," I shot back.

She dubbed me ugly, so how could those blooms I nurtured myself endure such an insult? It suddenly clicked why they plucked flowers from my garden—they had orchestrated this very moment.

"We won't let you harm the Second Princess!" one man proclaimed, his face alight with false bravery as though set to sacrifice himself against me.

I fixed my gaze on the man. "If I wanted to harm her, I would have burned the clothes she is wearing and not that pretty curtain."

Second Princess Meira grew even angrier, if such a thing were possible, and I knew precisely why. By deeming the curtain pretty, I had rendered her lavish dress worthless by comparison.

No matter what I said or did, I knew they couldn't touch me; they were forced to grind their teeth in impotence.

Unable to assail me with words any longer, the women appealed to Queen Niobe. "Did you see, my Queen? She wants to burn the Second Princess!"

The Queen stepped down from her throne toward us in the front row. She first approached her 'victimized' daughter, clasping her hand to offer comfort. The women from the groom's side mirrored her actions.

After their melodramatic display, Queen Niobe turned to me with a reproachful stare. "How can you do this to your own sister? I didn't expect it from you, Seren."

Gasps echoed across the hall.

The Queen's words carried great weight. Through them, she had validated that I was the arsonist who sabotaged this event.

The others turned their eyes to King Armen. "Your Majesty should do something about this crime."

I looked toward the King as well. "Your Majesty, I expect the Royal Investigation Bureau to search for traces of flammable oil at the site of the incident."

The King gave a faint nod in my direction, signaling his approval of my request.

"How outrageous! Aside from you, who would do something like this? It makes no sense," bellowed one man upon witnessing the King's agreement. Guilt was plain on his face. Their scheme was clearly unraveling.

"She is just making up things to protect herself!" another woman cried out.

Yet my father ignored them entirely.

"Take the Third Princess back to her place," the King commanded, his gaze shifting once more to Martha.

"My Lady," Martha said with a bow, guiding me away from the uproar.

As we made our exit, the crowd's murmurs swelled with unrest.

"How can we let her go so easily?"

"Shouldn't we punish her?"

"Ever since she came to this kingdom, she only brought us misfortunes."

"You are right. We should throw her out of the kingdom."

Thud!

The resounding crash stemmed from King Armen slamming his hands onto the armrest. As he rose to his feet, silence blanketed the entire hall.

"Don't forget she is a princess," the enraged king declared, his glare sweeping over everyone who had slandered me.

Though King Armen harbored no affection for me, the kingdom knew he tolerated no harm coming to me from others. In truth, it likely stemmed not from viewing me as his daughter, but from my status as an official princess of the Kingdom of Abetha—regardless of my reputation, he allowed no slight against the royal family.

Just as Martha and I arrived at the door, a man's voice pierced the oppressive silence.

"Looks like someone used expensive flammable oil imported from the east only to burn a curtain. As I heard, it seems like the Kingdom of Abetha and its people are really rich."

I whirled toward the source of that deep masculine voice. Everyone else did likewise.

I realized the voice originated from the incident's location—the expansive window farthest from the throne, where the scorched remnants of the curtain still hung.

I longed to spot the speaker, but throngs of people obstructed the view, all craning to see the scene. I started toward it, but a King's guard approached us.

He bowed to me before turning to Martha. "King has asked the third Princess to go back to the tower."

Martha gave him a slight nod and faced me. "We should leave, my lady."

The moment I crossed the hall's doorway, a fierce gust of wind swept past, and a familiar sensation tugged me back inside. I peered within, detecting an aura of mysterious energy.

"What happened?" Martha asked.

Perplexed, I responded, "I don't know, but something is there..."

Martha glanced at me and then where my eyes were locked, commanding, "We need to leave."

The guard stepped up, placing himself between me and my line of sight, fully blocking it. I shot him a fierce glare, yet the sturdy, towering guard refused to yield.

'No respect for a princess,' I grumbled inwardly.

Martha seized my hand and pulled me away.

I tugged to free myself, but her grasp wouldn't relent.

'This old woman is incredibly strong.'

I had no choice but to trail after her.

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