Trinity the last White Witch - Chapter 62

Extra Chapter for New Year ^^

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[Dorothy’s POV]

“Huuuuu . . .” My lips puckered out as I watched the nobles going in and out of the café with their fancy dresses and expensive jewelry.

I was inside the most luxurious inn and café in town, just beside the lake. Only the nobles and those who could afford its extravagant price a night could stay here and spend enough money for its luxurious, ridiculously expensive service.

As for me, Trinity gave me a bag full of gil to keep me occupied while they infiltrate Roselake manor. To keep me from coming, she bribed me with a big pouch of gil with the promise that I would train and stay inconspicuous.

I didn’t even know where she got the money from and didn’t care more than a second when she handed me the big pouch.

I did train. Walking around the lake to improve my stamina and find potential lovers, and honing my eye skills by pointing out the styles of every lady I spot.

I think it was important to train my eyes to improve my reflexes.

Maybe I’d become a spy?

I like the sound of that.

I rubbed my wig, making sure that it stayed in place. It would be a disaster if a fluffy ear suddenly erupted under it. Or a snout on my face when I sipped my tea.

I got my mask and big summer hat just in case.

*sigh . . .

I was bored as I finished the rose tea with poached egg and salmon. I didn’t know how to pronounce the name of the meal, but it was definitely egg and salmon.

Nothing like the nobles’ food. Making everything complicated with simple dishes and slapping an expensive tag on its hard to read name.

If only Michael is here with me.

I wonder if they had already met up with Duke Roselake. I was worried about Michael. Trinity might be a witch with magic, but I didn’t know how powerful she really was.

Rather, I hope that Trinity wouldn’t fall in love with Michael. I already had enough competition as it is.

Come to think of it. There was a talk in town that they would burn a witch this afternoon in the town plaza.

Maybe I should go and take a look?

I alone on this table was depressing than looking at my previous appearance.

“Excuse me, are you already finished, madam?” a waiter asked.

“Why?”

“I’m sorry, madam. But the other customers wanted the table.”

My eyebrow rose. “I paid a hefty amount of money for this food.”

“I’m sorry, madam. You’ve been staying here for two hours already, and the others have a reservation at this time.”

“How absurd,” I sneered, “is this the popular cafe that everyone is talking about? The service is truly lacking. You can’t even provide enough tables and chairs for your customers?”

The old waiter’s face remained stoic. “I’m sorry, madam. But our café isn’t simply a waiting area.”

I flipped my hair and stood to my heels. “Whatever. I’m too beautiful for this place anyway.”

I was staying for over three hours actually, but still . . . I ordered your most expensive food, you know, and it wasn’t even that delicious. I mused to myself.

I sashayed out of the café and decided to go to town. It was ten in the morning, and every store was probably opened by now.

The execution show would start around noon, and it would be my first time watching a witch being burned on the stakes, and I was curious how it was done. If it turns gory, then I’ll leave and wait for Trinity and the others in the inn.

Or I could just go to them. I nodded to myself.

I checked my wig and simply touched my face for any change of my appearance. Fortunately, my face hadn’t been changing every minute or hour now. It would actually take a day or half. That was good news since the spell was starting to slow down, and once it did, I’d be able to safely apply an ointment or salve to make my real appearance more beautiful.

Looking at the scenery, there were a lot of guards today. Double than yesterday.

Was it because of the execution?

Or did something happen to Michael and the others?

My heart raced at the thought of Michael getting caught.

I was worried about Trinity too. Though more because of my concern on who would maintain my beautiful appearance if she was gone.

I searched for a boutique or a makeup store when the common folks suddenly ran past me. Curious as to where they were going, I followed them and stumbled into the town plaza.

It was crowded, especially at the center where a stage with a pole in a shape of a cross stood on its wooden parquet.

Is the execution about to happen? I asked myself.

“Everyone,” a priest announced, and all went silent, “All sorts of nonhumans plague this world. Abominable creatures that the Goddess Luminaire wanted to purge. Vampires that kidnap and kill us for our blood and werewolves that terrorize our lands. But that is not the only threat that we should be wary about.”

He flipped his hand and came out an executioner with a sack over his head, showing just his eyes while muscles and fat combined to make up his frame. His upper chest was bare while he donned an apron over his pants.

He pulled out a woman in a ragged white dress with his big hands. Her face was hidden behind a dirty bag of potato sack.

“Behold! A witch that threatened our very lives by using dark powers to manipulate us into believing that they could use powers like the Saintess!

“These heretics are dangerous and must be purged according to the Saintess will! As long as these creatures live amongst us, everyone, women, and children aren’t safe. We would never find peace!”

As I listened to the priest, my ears were ringing. In the past, I believed everything they said and did everything they told with the promise that the Saintess would grant my heart’s desire if I were loyal to the church.

But since I learned that Trinity was a witch, my view was turned backward.

And now, hearing the church speak, I couldn’t believe how naïve and idiotic I was. It was obvious that they deemed everyone with powers other than the Saintess as heretics.

If the people knew that the witches could grant their heart’s desire with just a spell or potion, then everyone’s loyalty would shift, and the church wouldn’t have that. They needed everyone to fear this creature so they would cling to the Saintess.

“All of you! I want you to burn in your memories the face of this witch!”

The executioner pulled the sack from the girl’s face, and my expression crumpled when all I saw was a young girl with black hair, squinty eyes, and a freckled face.

“I am not a witch!” She screamed. “Believe me! I’m the daughter of the Earl! Nadia Rose–umph!”

Before she could finish her speech, her mouth was gagged with a cloth, and she was tied in the stake by the executioner.

The young girl didn’t peg me as a witch. She looked like a helpless young woman than anything else.

But more importantly, what she said caught my attention.

The daughter of the Earl?