Under the drizzle of shower, Julius weighed his options.

The cold shower helped dampen his frustration, and subsequently cooled his head.

Information.

He needed every single information he could get.

First of all, where was he?

Within his field of vision, spread a lavish bathroom.

It wasn't only the size of a chapel but was also built using marbles. It consisted of a round, white, bathtub which could probably fit a few people, and a tall, golden, showerhead. A red rug seemingly made of quality fur was spread in the middle of the room. The bathroom seemed to have its everything constructed using precious materials.

...So much for being a hermit.

Knowing his opponent, it wouldn't be that surprising if she also possessed the ability to turn stone into gold.

Even now, Julius still couldn't fend off his frustration. He felt as if he was dancing on top of the witch's palm—even at that very moment.

In his defense, he was only seizing the opportunity to wash himself clean of any lingering traces of the witch.

Although, he indeed had to reflect upon his previous strings of actions.

He had acted based on raw emotions.

That letter probably sparked it.

As ashamed as he was to admit it, the witch was indeed correct in assuming that he wanted to deny the letter's existence.

It was as the witch had said—

—somehow, anyhow, he was hoping for the letter's content to change.

He never expected for the church to discard him that easily.

Thinking about the superiors he served, it was most likely due to the lack of oversight, or just plain ignorance on their part. They, or that one dark-skinned, rotund man in particular, was too busy kissing up the aristocrats, his potential sponsors, to actually care and give out proper solutions.

The result was the hot water Julius was in as of the present.

Not even a day has passed ever since he accepted the letter, and he had already consigned his life to the witch.

Julius exhaled—

—it’s for the best.

At the very least, his party members were spared from suffering the same fate.

Such was part of the deal.

As of the present, they were sent away. To a faraway place, where the witch wouldn't be able to seize a hold of them—

—and they, in return, wouldn't be able to come for him. Especially when for all they knew, their former captain quit in favor of his personal interest.

Julius collected himself.

The situation was still salvageable.

The reason was none other than the previous contract they had signed.

In the end, the witch refrained from taking a step further, and decided to leave him be.

But for what reason?

What was stopping her?

Surely, it couldn't be a mere pity.

The second rule of the contract shed light to everything.

The witch was trying to elude.

Knowing that all the evidence pointed to her, the witch pretended to have nothing to do with them–or, even better yet, to be on the side of justice.

Hence the word 'investigate.'

Because in no mystery fiction ever was the detective the actual culprit.

However, it was reality, and not fiction.

Faking her innocence, the witch attempted to gain his trust—but how long could she keep pretending? How long until a crack began to appear on her facade?

He, who was already aware of the witch's true nature, would never fall under her deceit. Which made it easier for him. All he had to do now was wait.

Two people could play that game.

As the witch faked her true nature, he shall be the one who revealed everything.

Soon enough, the witch would—

"A shower after a day of hard work!"

—as he pondered such, he heard the door behind him swing open as an obnoxious voice echoed.

 Just like that, the very person he abhorred appeared.

The witch stood in front of the door, her face beaming. She looked like someone who had achieved a grandiose feat. Having removed her cloak, only a white flowy dress remained.

Then, time stood still as they both held onto their own position.

—...Did she enter by mistake?

In all actuality, Julius already had an inkling as to why the witch was there.

Despite this, his body refused to budge.

His palms remained pressed against the drenched wall of the bathroom.

For now, let's see her reaction...

Julius slightly turned his head around—

—a decision he regretted immensely.

The moment he saw those eyes of her incredulously studying his back, all the memories he desperately tried to suppress resurfaced—

—of all the thing she had done to him—

—and how he had reacted.

He just wanted the earth to open up and swallow him whole.

The witch could be seen and heard muttering 'Ooh...' As her eyes wandered with no reservation whatsoever.

Wasn't she supposed to pretend ‘it’s an accident’ as she tried to worm her way into joining him in the shower?

Why was the witch openly admiring him, then!?

The witch was no doubt the single most brazen woman he had ever known in his entire life.

Letting it be known that her admiration was unappreciated, Julius shot a very cold glance towards her. The witch froze, her expression changing into a sudden realization.

Julius also realized he had acted based on pure emotions again.

...She caught me off-guard.

But it'd never happen again. Julius calmly readjusted his breath.

I have nothing to lose—not anymore.

Then, as he turned around and showed the most magnificent, fake, smile;

"The witch sure is bold—"

"—I'm sorry!!!" The witch bolted towards the door.

He froze.

Before she made her exit, however, the witch once again poked her head from behind the door. "Well, now that it has come to this—you have such a gorgeous back, Mr. Julius!"

As she showed her carefree smile once again, the witch gave him a double thumbs-up.

Afterwards, she disappeared behind the closed door.

Lighthearted footsteps of someone who had just done the world a great service could be heard thereafter.

Julius stood glued on the spot.

“...”

What did she mean 'now that it has come to this'—!?

***

As the ingredients inside the pot began to shimmer, the witch let out a laugh. Her hearty chuckle was accompanied by the sizzling noise of the liquid within the pot.

“—...With this, the banquet shall begin.”

***

The dining hall was both luxurious, and exuberant. Long, round edged, table with glass top. Row of chairs made of mahogany. On top of the table, were two candelabras alongside rows of silverware. Above, was a large crystal chandelier. The room’s lighting itself was dim.

The most dazzling of all was the dance of fire reflected upon the table’s glossy surface, which was also entrapped by the facetious chandelier, causing it to glimmer mesmerizingly. It was as if there was powder of light falling at the center of the table.

The moment Julius stepped foot into said room, his focus immediately went towards the end of the room.

At the end of the room fully red, stood a person clad in striking color.

Having shed her cloak, the witch wore a simple, long-sleeved, silk dress. The pure white dress’ hem consisted of two layers; the outer-layer was draped around her waist, its shape resembling tulip’s bulb, while the inner-layer was a simple, above-the-knee, skirt. The witch’s attire was in clash with the entire room—be it the complexity, color, and also atmosphere.

“How did you enjoy the bath? While you were at it, I took the liberty of preparing dinner. I hope it’s to your taste. Do sit down.”

The witch’s smile made her appear like an innocent maiden, to which Julius narrowed his eyes. Her voice was both sincere and casual—as if nothing in particular had ever happened a short while ago.

However, said expression soon cracked—

“—I enjoyed it quite well. The warm shower helps soothe my mind, and in turn, reorganizes my thoughts. Thus, I came to a realization that I’ve been behaving like a bumbling fool.”

Because not only had Julius replied, but he had also smiled.

Before the witch could react, Julius went forward. He passed the chair at the back of the row, and soon arrived beside the witch.

“I’ve misunderstood your intentions, Ms. Witch. You only intended to save my life—and that you did. However, not only did I fail to perceive that, but I’ve also behaved anything but grateful towards you, my benefactor! Words aren’t enough! I’ll see through my dedication that my debt is repaid!”

Reflected upon the transparent liquid inside the wine glass, his breathless face as he swore his utmost devotion. The scene itself was as if it was directly cut out of a play, whereas he was a knight pledging his loyalty towards his lord.

Almost immediately, the witch broke into an ear-to-ear grin.

“Really? Do you truly mean it?”

“Words by words.”

“Is that so? Good, then! Why don’t you sit down?” The witch was beaming. Her expression was of pure joy.

Julius opted to choose the seat right beside the witch.

Thus, the banquet ensued.

After the witch had personally served the meal, Julius was a bit surprised that it merely consisted of four courses.

The first course, the appetizer, was accompanied with a bit of small talk.

“We started off on a pretty bad term, so why don’t we start over? My name is Anicca, a full-fledged witch.”

“I’m Julius Visconti, the Church of Magnolia’s knight templar.”

The dish itself was some kind of peanut flan.

“Your table manners are so graceful, Mr. Julius! As I thought, are you a noble?”

“Indeed. How about Ms. Witch? Did you live here alone?”

“It is as you can see. I live here alone, with no servants whatsoever.”

“While we are at it, I have to compliment your taste in color. Red does suit you, Ms. Witch. This house is already amazing in itself. In what could possibly be the middle of nowhere, such a magnificent building existed.”

“Nobles enjoy their thrilling, safe, pastimes, after all. Therefore, although it may appear to be in the middle of nowhere, it’s actually closer to the city than you thought. Don’t worry, this area is completely safe.”

“Now that does put rest to any of my lingering doubts.” Julius said as he brought a spoonful of flan into his mouth.

The next dish being brought forward by the witch was a cream soup.

That was when Julius took a note of something.

"Mrs. Witch seems to be having a different dish than mine."

"Oh, just ignore that. I can't keep my craving for mushrooms off any more than I dared to serve a guest thing I picked up from the ground."

"That's very considerate of you."

"What do you think of the spiciness? Personally, I can't stand anything spicy, so..."

"It is already delicious as it is."

The dinner continued with them casually throwing remarks at each other as each dish was being served.

The witch wasn't a perfectionist.

Under the pretense of 'small talk', her guest may actually be gauging her.

Although it may seem like he was enjoying it, her guest may actually be numbing his taste buds with an antidote of some kind.

Although it may seem like they had reached a common ground, her guest may actually be setting up a pitfall for her.

Although they had formally re-introduced themselves, never once had her guest referred to her by name.

The whole dinner itself was far from perfect.

Despite this, if she solely looked at what she wanted to see, in the end, she was still dining with someone.

Thus, the not-so-perfect dinner became ideal.

For the witch was conceited.