Chapter 18

One late Winter day, Mark comes home, the familiar crunch of snow under his boots. He pauses for a moment on the doorstep, taking in the serene beauty of the snow-covered valley, a sense of peace settling over him. A smile spreads across his face as he looks around, reflecting on how much his life has changed since the beginning of the year.

When the year started, Mark's life had been a monotonous cycle of running his farm and helping friends around the valley. His days had blurred together in a steady rhythm of chores and quiet evenings. But now, everything feels different. Now, his house is full of life and warmth, thanks to Keira, his wife.

As he steps inside, the delicious aroma of home-cooked food fills the air, wrapping around him like a comforting embrace. Keira is in the kitchen, humming a tune while she stirs a pot of Hanabishi style stew. Her face lights up when she sees him, a smile that makes his heart flutter. She's happy, content, and it shows in every movement, every word she speaks.

Keira has found joy in cooking the traditional dishes of her people, bringing a sense of normalcy and heritage into her new life. Her clothes have evolved from the heavy robes layered with armor to a simple, light yukata, symbolizing her transition from her old life to this new one. Her old robe hangs on display on bamboo poles in a corner of the house, a silent reminder of her past life in the castle.

Their lives have settled into a cooperative routine of work and chores. They spend their days working on their own jobs; Mark on the farm while Keira continues to help Carter and Flora unraveling the mysteries of the Hananishi people. Evenings are spent in the cozy warmth of their home, watching television together. Keira has developed a love for action-packed shows featuring sword-wielding warriors and emotionally touching dramas, her eyes sparkling with excitement or welling with tears, depending on the storyline.

Mark marvels at how effortlessly they have melded their lives together, each day bringing them closer. He walks over to Keira, patting her shoulder asking if she's okay. She laughs, a soft, musical sound that fills him with happiness as she tells him that dinner will be served soon. They are no longer just two people living together; they are partners, sharing their lives, their dreams, and their hearts.

As Keira continues to cook, the savory aroma of the stew filling the room, Mark heads to the small desk where they keep their mail. Among the usual farm supply catalogs and a few letters from friends in the valley, he finds a single, unusual request. His eyes widen as he recognizes the elegant, slightly whimsical handwriting—it's from Witch Princess.

Mark hasn't spoken to Witch Princess since his wedding to Keira, and in the whirlwind of his new life, he had almost forgotten that she still resided in the valley. The letter requests a specific assortment of herbs, listing them with precise detail.

Curiosity piqued but not thinking too much of it, Mark decides to fulfill her request. He heads tot the storage shed and carefully selects the herbs she needs. With the bundle of fresh herbs in hand, he packs them into a small bag, making sure everything is secure.

"Keira, I need to deliver these herbs. I won't be long," Mark calls out, slipping on his coat and scarf.

Keira turns from the stove, giving him a warm smile. "Be careful, Mark. I pray for your safe return."

He nods, returning her smile, and then steps out into the crisp Winter air. The snow crunches beneath his boots as he makes his way towards Witch Princess's hut, nestled right next to the villa. The cold air bites at his cheeks, but he barely notices, his mind wandering back to the last time he saw the Witch Princess.

As he approaches her hut, he can't help but wonder what she's been up to all this time and why she suddenly needs these herbs. Pushing those thoughts aside, he knocks on the door, ready to deliver the herbs and see what the enigmatic Witch Princess has to say.

"Come in," Witch Princess's voice calls out from somewhere deeper within the hut.

Mark hesitates for a moment outside the Witch Princess's hut before pushing the door open. Mark steps inside, the door creaking shut behind him. He spots her at the far end, hunched over a bubbling cauldron, her face illuminated by its greenish glow. The familiar, dimly lit interior greets him with a heady mix of herbs, potions, and ancient books stacked haphazardly on every available surface. Strange ingredients dangle from the ceiling, which is always unsettling, no matter how many times he has been there.

"Here are the herbs you requested," Mark says, holding up the bag.

"Leave them on the table," she replies without looking up, her focus seemingly on the concoction she's stirring.

Mark sets the bag down on a nearby table cluttered with various bottles and scrolls. As he does so, he decides to break the silence with news of his marriage.

"I wanted to update you on something," Mark begins, his voice a bit hesitant. "Keira and I have been living together for almost a year now. And… thanks to your help, we've fallen in love with each other!"

Witch Princess's hand pauses over the cauldron, and a slow, unsettling smile spreads across her face. Suddenly, she starts to laugh—a high, mocking sound that echoes through the hut.

Mark's brow furrows in confusion. "Why are you laughing?"

She turns to face him, her eyes glinting with a mischievous light. "You dumb fool! Do you really believe that the princess is in love with you?"

The words hang in the air like a cruel enchantment, and Mark feels his heart sink. "What do you mean?" he asks, a mix of confusion and hurt creeping into his voice.

Witch Princess cackles for a moment longer, her laughter echoing ominously in the dimly lit hut. "I knew you were an idiot before, but this takes the cake!" she sneers. "You forgot that Keira is a member of a royal family. They don't believe in love and romance."

Mark's confusion deepens, and he takes a hesitant step forward. "What do you mean by that?"

Witch Princess strides up to him, her eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. "Did you forget? Keira married you because she had to. Not because of the curse, but because of her bloodline. A queen and king never love each other; a queen serves the king, just like any other person living in the kingdom. Her father raised her to be a servant to the king she would have married if she didn't end up here in the valley."

Mark's face flushes with anger and determination. "You're wrong! I don't know what life was like before she ended up as my wife, but she's different now. She doesn't live by her old rules!"

Witch Princess narrows her eyes, her expression a mix of pity and disdain. "You naive fool. Do you think a lifetime of indoctrination can be erased so easily? Keira might be adapting to this simple life, but deep down, she's still bound by the chains of her upbringing."

Mark shakes his head, unwilling to accept her words. "No, you're wrong. I've seen the way she looks at me, the way she laughs, the way she's embraced this new life. She's not just serving me; she's living and loving in a way she never could in that castle."

"Oh really?" Witch Princess says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I guess that you didn't know Keira's hand was already promised to someone else."

Mark gasps, his heart pounding in his chest as he struggles to process this revelation. "That can't be true! Keira would have told me!"

With a wicked smile, Witch Princess leans closer, her eyes gleaming with malicious glee. "Guess what? She didn't know either. Her hand was promised to a man called Sasuke Rashi. He was the general of the Hanabishi army, right under the king's leadership. If I never cursed Keira, she would have married him, without question."

Mark's mind reels, unable to reconcile this new information with the life he's built with Keira. "No," he murmurs, shaking his head. "Keira's feelings are real. What we have is real."

Witch Princess's smile widens, her satisfaction palpable. "Face it, Mark. Keira's feelings are not real love, just an echo of her duty to the royal family. She only likes the life she has with you because she doesn't have to live the life of a caged bird ruling over her people, even if she doesn't want to. She would have ended up going mad, then dying a horrible death, just to be replaced by a new queen. That was her fate."

Mark stands there, paralyzed by the weight of her words. Could it be true? Could everything he and Keira have built together be nothing more than a fleeting escape from her predestined misery? Doubt gnaws at him, but a fierce determination ignites within him as well. He knows Keira, knows the love they share, and he refuses to let Witch Princess's cruel words undermine that.

"You're wrong," Mark says firmly, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him. "Keira and I are building a life together, a real life filled with love and happiness. Maybe her past was different, but that doesn't define our future."

Witch Princess sighs, realizing her words are falling on deaf ears. "Okay then, fine. Prove it," she says, her tone a mix of challenge and resignation.

"How?" Mark asks.

"It's simple," Witch Princess replies, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Just ask her yourself. Ask her if she loves you. I think you'll find the answer quite interesting."

Mark narrows his eyes, sensing a trap but determined to face whatever truth lies ahead. He gives Witch Princess one last look, her confident demeanor only strengthening his resolve. Without another word, he turns on his heel and exits the hut, the cold winter air biting at his face as he makes his way back to the farm.

As Mark trudges through the snow, his mind races with thoughts and doubts. Could Witch Princess be right? Is Keira's love genuine, or is it merely an echo of her royal duty? The cold air nips at his cheeks, but it's the turmoil inside that truly chills him.

He always knew his marriage was a bit odd. Keira didn't know him when they met, yet she accepted her role as his wife without even the slightest resistance. She often asked him for permission over and over to do the simplest of thing, even after he assured her countless times that she didn't need to. "It is my sworn duty to provide you with an heir," he remembers her saying. At the time, it struck him as an odd statement, but he dismissed it as Keira being raised in a different culture.

Now, with Witch Princess's words echoing in his mind, the statement takes on a different meaning. Keira never truly wanted to have children, but she felt obligated to do it for him. This is why she never pressed the issue after they agreed to wait. He recalls other moments, too, when Keira used words like "duty" and "servitude." All of a sudden, the realization crashes over him, filling him with dread.

He becomes afraid to ask Keira about her feelings for him. He believed, like in the old fairy tales, that Keira had fallen for him after he broke the curse. Saving the princess and becoming a hero. They would get married and live happily ever after. He has forgotten that this is no fairy tale, and now he has no idea what to think. What if Witch Princess is right? What if Keira's affection is nothing more than the fulfillment of her lifelong ingrained sense of duty?

As he recalls the days when he worried about whether or not Keira would be okay being married to him, he assumed by Keira's actions that she was. But now he has to come to terms with the idea that Keira might not have had a choice in the matter. In his mind, she was essentially a prisoner in the castle, and once he placed the ring on her finger, the marriage has become her new prison.

His steps slow as he nears the farmhouse, the light in the kitchen window glowing warmly against the afternoon light. He stops for a moment, staring at the house that has become so full of life and warmth since Keira came into his life. The smell of cooking wafts through the air, a comforting reminder of the home they've built together. Yet, the comfort is tinged with uncertainty.

Taking a deep breath, he steels himself. He knows he must confront this head-on, despite his fears. He pushes open the door and steps inside, the warmth of the house enveloping him. Keira looks up from her cooking, her face lighting up with a smile. Mark's heart aches at the sight, but he knows he can't let his fear rule him. He must know the truth, no matter how much it might hurt.

As they sit down at the table, the aroma of the delicious Hanabishi-style stew filling the air, Mark's mind is consumed with uncertainty. He wants to trust in the bond that he and Keira share, but the thought of continuing to live a lie terrifies him. Each bite of the stew, usually a comforting reminder of home, now feels heavy with the weight of his thoughts.

Keira notices the concerned look on Mark's face and asks gently, "Are you okay?"

Mark nods, forcing a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine."

But as he takes another bite of his food, the question gnaws at him. He dares himself to ask Keira to confirm what he believes is true. He takes a deep breath and looks at her across the table, her serene expression a stark contrast to his inner turmoil.

"Um, Keira?" he starts, his voice wavering slightly.

"Yes, Mark?" she responds, her eyes filled with concern.

After a moment of hesitation, he asks, "Do you... love me?"

Keira tilts her head, a puzzled look crossing her face. "What is love?" she asks earnestly.

Mark's heart sinks at Keira's words. It's one thing for her to be unfamiliar with things that everyone takes for granted these days—like TV and underwear. He could even understand that she had never heard of dates, as that idea might be new for her and not something commonly practiced in her time. But the concept of love? His eyes tremble at the thought that Keira has no concept of love.

He sits back in his chair, the weight of her revelation pressing down on him like a physical burden. The room seems to close in around him as he processes her words. He realizes now that for Keira, marriage is akin to a job, not a relationship where two people choose to be together forever. Their definitions of marriage are fundamentally different, something he was not prepared to understand or accept.

Mark's thoughts race as he grapples with the reality before him. His feelings are one-sided; he is in love with someone who cannot understand what that even means. The tender moments they shared, the laughter, the companionship—all of it now feels like a cruel illusion. He wonders if she can ever truly feel the way he does, or if their relationship will always be one of duty and obligation for her.

Keira watches him, her brow furrowed with concern. She reaches out, gently touching his hand. "Mark, are you alright?" she asks, her voice filled with genuine worry.

Mark forces a smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine," he lies, his voice barely above a whisper. He doesn't want to burden her with his turmoil, knowing it might only confuse her further.

Keira then once again asks softly, "Mark, what is love?"

Mark shakes his head, offering a small, sad smile. "It's not important right now," he says, trying to keep his voice steady. "Let's just enjoy our dinner."

They continue to eat in silence, the comforting warmth of the Hanabishi stew contrasting with the cold uncertainty that grips Mark's heart. Each bite is a reminder of the love he feels for Keira, a love she doesn't fully understand. He watches her, her serene expression as she enjoys the meal, and wonders how he can bridge the gap between their worlds.

The most important thing that weighs heavily in Mark's heart is the fact that Keira is a prisoner in this marriage, whether she knows it or not. As Mark eats the food prepared by the love of his life, he can't help but ask himself the question that will be haunting him from this point forward, "What am I going to do?"