Chapter 11
Chapter 11
As Estelle replaced the lukewarm compress on Joshua’s forehead, countless worries drifted through her mind.
Maybe I should just apologize for hitting her? But what if she refuses to accept it?
Even when she tried to imagine the situation calmly, every outcome twisted in the same direction—Joshua getting angry, running away, or something even worse. Estelle shook her head hard, trying to scatter the thoughts.
No, I’m a witch. I should act like one.
Maybe I could use a memory-erasing potion?
If Joshua forgot the fight entirely, maybe they could return to laughing together like nothing happened. But even then, the fact that she had struck her wouldn’t disappear. Estelle couldn’t imagine smiling in front of Joshua after that truth was gone but not really gone.
That moment—when Joshua had said, “You should have just let me die…”
It kept echoing in her chest like a wound that wouldn’t close.
If it hurts this much, maybe I shouldn’t have saved her at all.
A war orphan.
A starving child reduced to skin and bones, waiting for death.
A child abandoned since infancy, treated like less than human.
There had been countless children worse off than Joshua.
And yet…
If I hadn’t saved her back then…
The Joshua who complained about affection, who got excited over fairy tales, who learned magic for the first time and smiled, who even cried in anger for the first time—all of that would never exist.
I don’t want that.
Even if their time together was less than a hundred years, even if it was short.
Joshua was already too large a part of her life.
Estelle carefully changed her clothes, wiped her body clean, and fumbled when Joshua shifted in her sleep. After finally settling her down, she lit a calming incense and brushed Joshua’s flushed cheek.
It doesn’t matter why anymore.
Her silver hair shimmered faintly in the moonlight. Beneath it, eyes like snowflowers peeked out shyly. A butterfly-shaped mark rested above her right eye.
Estelle leaned down and gently kissed her forehead.
Joshua woke around midnight.
“Ugh…”
Her mind was still hazy.
As clarity slowly returned, memories flooded back.
What did I say…?
It wasn’t something that could be dismissed as a mistake. She had carved something painful into Estelle’s heart—something irreversible.
To Estelle, Joshua had been all-powerful, someone who could do anything and knew everything.
Watching her defeat dozens of orcs had made Joshua question whether the books had been wrong. The monsters described there were supposed to be overwhelming threats for even adults.
And Estelle… she made everything seem possible.
I wanted to become someone like her.
I wanted to save people.
That confidence had driven her to insist on saving the prisoners, even against Estelle’s opposition.
But that confidence had shattered.
The reality of her mistakes came too late.
Two had already died. Then another. By the time she noticed something was wrong, it was already too late.
“Maybe… I killed them.”
She didn’t want to believe it. She wanted to deny it. But the conclusion wouldn’t go away.
Her resentment turned toward Estelle.
Why didn’t she stop me?
Why didn’t she save them like she saves everyone else?
The more she thought, the more Estelle became the target of all her pain.
When Joshua finally woke properly, she realized something warm was resting on her chest.
A damp cloth.
“I… passed out.”
A voice responded softly.
“Joshua?”
“Estelle…?”
They both froze.
Silence stretched between them.
Then Joshua spoke first.
“…Can I sleep here tonight?”
“Of course.”
They lay side by side under the same blanket, too close, too aware of each other’s breathing.
“I… I used to hate you,” Joshua said quietly.
Estelle’s heart tightened.
Joshua continued, voice trembling but steady.
She spoke of her village. Of famine. Of the day Estelle arrived. Of the massacre that followed—of hiding, of fear, of losing her parents.
Of everything she had wanted to say back then.
Why did people have to die?
Why did my parents have to die?
But she didn’t say those words.
Because she was no longer that seven-year-old child.
“I was sure I’d hate you forever,” Joshua said.
“…But not anymore.”
Her face turned red as she smiled faintly.
“I understand now. Why you taught me things. Why you worried about me. Why you treated me like this…”
Estelle couldn’t answer. If she did, she might break.
“I’m sorry for being selfish. I said terrible things. I’m sorry.”
“…Joshua, I’m the one who should be sorry…”
Estelle pulled her into an embrace.
In that moment, nothing else mattered—not stories, not fate, not anything.
Only this child, and her hope that she could live a normal, happy life.
Estelle held her tightly as tears finally fell freely.
“Why are you crying…?”
“You’re just… too cute.”
And for the first time in a long while, they talked until exhaustion carried them into sleep—about trivial things they had always delayed, and about a future neither of them could fully see.