Chapter 25 - Snow White's Son

Translator's Note:

Hello, I hope you've all been doing well.

Here you go, and I wish you a good read.

And as I said before, if you wish to read ahead, you can head over to my Patreon to get early access to all the translated chapters.

On the afternoon of Crow's tenth day at the castle, Kyle, who had been absent from the room for a while, returned with a voice brimming with joy, "Snow White, we have a guest!" His tone carried a smile that Crow could not see, but he was certain that Kyle's face bore one nonetheless.

 

For Crow, Kyle's face was a blend of the noble portrait of his brother and the fierce expression of the Beast. And though it was an odd thought, it was the Beast's dark, bearded visage that came to his mind most often.

 

"A guest? Who might they be?" Crow, sitting on a chaise and knitting, tilted his head toward the sound of Kyle's voice.

 

Though he had recovered enough to leave his bed, a mild fever still lingered, so he had been resting comfortably by the fire, knitting a shawl of soft, warm yarn. It was a task he could manage even without seeing much, thanks to the enchanted bracelet that allowed him to perceive his surroundings to some extent. He couldn't see the color, but Kyle had told him it was a beautiful shade of red.

 

"You may soon be able to see the color of that yarn for yourself," Kyle said softly.

 

"W-What do you mean by that? Will my eyes heal?"

 

Kyle sat beside him, wrapping an arm around Crow's shoulders without immediately answering. Instead, with a bright and cheerful voice, he praised Crow's work. "You've knitted this so well. When it's done, let me use it too."

 

He gently stroked Crow's hair and pressed his lips to his forehead again and again.

 

"If you're going to use it, I'll knit a new lap blanket for you instead," Crow replied, smiling.

 

"Is that so? Then I'll use a lap blanket, and you can wear the shawl. And when your eyes heal, you must choose a color that suits me and knit something special."

 

"Of course. I'll make something with an even more intricate pattern."

 

"I look forward to it. I shall treasure it."

 

Kyle, in unusually high spirits, kissed Crow again, this time on his temples and cheeks. And then, as if whispering a precious secret, he murmured near Crow's ear, "The one who can perform miracles has finally arrived..."

 

"Someone who can perform miracles?" Crow asked, his curiosity piqued.

 

"Yes, they're waiting in the next room. Now, let's take a break from your knitting and go greet them together."

 

With Kyle's gentle hands supporting his, Crow stood, guided by his brother's steady grip on his hand and waist. Kyle led him out of the bedroom, and together they walked down the long corridor. Crow had spent the past ten days within the confines of his bedroom and its adjoining bath, never once setting foot into the hallway.

 

The corridor was grand, with high ceilings and guards stationed at the far end near a great door that resembled a gate more than a mere entryway.

 

After a few paces, Kyle led Crow into the adjacent room.

 

"Thank you for waiting. This is my brother, Snow White, the second prince," Kyle announced with pride.

 

As soon as they entered, a sweet and lavish scent of perfume drifted through the air, unfamiliar and yet not unpleasant. It carried with it a distinctly feminine charm.

 

"Snow White, our guest today is the Marchioness of Centria from the Kingdom of Auden," Kyle introduced.

 

"My, what a darling boy! He is the spitting image of the late queen," the lady remarked.

 

"Far more charming than our mother ever was," Kyle replied with a chuckle. "Not only in appearance but in heart as well. There's no comparison."

 

"Oh, such sharp words!" the Marchioness laughed softly. "But I understand. I was at the wedding myself and witnessed firsthand the ruthless streak of Queen Snow White... Quite the contrast to that sweet face."

 

The lady's voice was warm yet carried the maturity of a seasoned beauty. She approached Crow with a light, knowing chuckle.

 

"Ah..." Crow tightened his grip on Kyle's hand as he became acutely aware of the strange power she emanated.

 

It wasn't something visible, but rather something he felt. After spending so many years living with elves, he could sense it in his very skin—this woman was no ordinary human. Though her power wasn't as overwhelming as when the seven elves were together, it far surpassed that of any one of them alone. She was a witch, no doubt.

 

"The Marchioness, though married and given a noble title, was once the most renowned witch in all of Auden," Kyle explained, his voice steady. "She's known for her powers of healing—she's restored a pirate-ravaged admiral's legs and healed the voice of a singer who had lost it. Her miracles are many."

 

"That's... incredible. You possess such remarkable powers," Crow replied, his voice filled with awe.

 

"It's not all that remarkable," the Marchioness said modestly. "There are many things I couldn't heal... I couldn't save Queen Snow White when she fell ill. But I do believe I can restore your sight. After all, you still carry the magic of the seven elves within you. It should work in your favor."

 

Crow's heart raced at her words, but what he truly longed to see was Kyle's face. What expression was his brother wearing now? Crow knew that the Beast had once been furious about how Crow had been raised, fed by the semen of elves who had turned into young men. His anger had been so deep that he had cut Crow's hair in a fit of jealousy, and it was this very jealousy that had driven him to bring Crow into the castle, risking discovery by the king.

 

How did Kyle feel now, knowing that the elves' magic might be the key to restoring Crow's sight? Was he resigned to it, content even? Or did he secretly harbor that same jealousy, that same possessive anger?

 

Though Crow held his brother's hand and felt his touch on his back, he couldn't read his emotions. Even when Kyle turned to the Marchioness and said, "Please, take good care of my brother," there was no discernible shift in his tone.

 

"I will need to examine his eyes first," the Marchioness said. "And I have a few questions as well. Would you mind leaving us alone for a moment?"

 

Though she spoke without hesitation, showing no fear in addressing the crown prince of a neighboring kingdom, Kyle hesitated, gripping Crow's hand a little tighter.

 

It was a silent reassurance, the kind of touch that seemed to say, Everything will be alright.

 

Kyle gently guided Crow to a chaise and seated him. "I'll be right outside," he promised aloud, before stepping toward the door that led to the hallway.

 

The moment Kyle exited, the Marchioness let out a weary sigh. "Poor prince... still bound by that heavy curse."

 

Crow's head snapped up at her words, surprise flickering across his face. "You knew about it?"

 

"Of course. It's obvious to anyone who can see," she replied with a knowing smile. "I once knew the Mirror Witch well. I can see the trace of her wicked magic clinging to Prince Kyle's body. I don't know what effects the curse has wrought, but I imagine it's nothing good. Truly, he's quite unfortunate."

 

With that, she sat beside Crow, the multitude of rings on her fingers catching the light as she gently touched his left hand. The wrinkles in her skin betrayed her age, despite the youthful impression her voice conveyed.

 

"I can heal your eyes... but there is a condition," she said softly.

 

"A condition?" Crow echoed, his voice quiet yet tense.

 

"Prince Kyle has already promised me a bounty of jewels and even lands from his personal estates. His love for you is undeniable... But such treasures hold little allure for me. What I truly desire is the bracelet on your wrist—the one strung with the seven elven stones."

 

Crow's heart lurched as he instinctively drew back, his hand flying to his left wrist where the bracelet lay. These stones, once cherished by the seven elves, were said to house their very souls. They also possessed the power to tame the beast within Kyle, a power Crow knew might still be needed in the future. Though Kyle had forsaken the bracelet for now, abandoning himself to the curse that bound him, it could one day become vital again.

 

"Why do you want these stones?" Crow asked, his voice guarded.

 

"The seven elves who raised you had power over youth. Though I possess healing magic, I cannot halt the march of time. But... with those stones, my magic would evolve. Reversing my age would no longer be a dream," the Marchioness explained.

 

Crow's voice firmed as he replied, "I cannot give these to you in exchange for my sight."

 

Though resolute, Crow felt a new determination solidify within him. If the bracelet truly held such value, perhaps he could bargain for something greater. The thought of parting with the elves' stones pained him deeply, as though it would sever the last link to them, but for Kyle's sake, he would make any sacrifice.

 

"Break the curse on my brother," Crow said, his voice clear with resolve. "If you can free him, the bracelet is yours. I don't care if my sight is never restored."

Last Chapter | TOC | Next Chapter