I Became the Maid of the Lout Prince
Chapter 272 Table of contents

Why is the Witch’s Forest called the Witch’s Forest?

There’s no need for a detailed explanation about the origin of the name. It’s simply because the forest is inhabited entirely by witches, and only witches live here.

Let’s change the question then: Why do witches live together in isolation?

Is it because mixing and creating potions is illegal and not allowed by the Empire?

Of course not. Luminor Academy, the Empire’s prestigious institution, even has a full-fledged department dedicated to pharmaceuticals. The Empire encourages studying the art of potion-making, especially those that mimic the effects of magic without using actual magic.

Then is it because witches use sinister ingredients that must remain hidden from the public eye, unlike other pharmacists?

That’s not it either. While the special environment of the Witch’s Forest does make it easier to gather certain ingredients, witches don’t necessarily use suspicious materials to make their potions. Sure, the way witches gather together and go about their work might seem suspicious to outsiders, but in reality, they’re not plotting anything sinister. They just look that way.

So, if they’re not doing anything particularly suspicious, why do witches live secluded in a forest on the outskirts of the Empire?

The reason is simple: all witches have what could be described as ‘ultimate communication disabilities.’

“W-W-Welcome, e-everyone…”

“Hello, Miss Lara Medichilling. We’ve come at the request of Sir Gevmwagjoshekegrit.”

“T-T-Thank you… I-I’m Lara, Lara Medichilling… I-I’m sorry to trouble you by having to travel all the w-w-way here…”

“It’s no trouble at all. We’ve always wanted to visit the Witch’s Forest, so we’re honored to be invited.”

Lara Medichilling struggled to make eye contact with us, stammering and fidgeting nervously.

Her trembling voice, unsteady breathing, and restless movements made it clear that she had difficulty communicating compared to the average person.

“I-I didn’t invite anyone but the hero… B-But I guess it doesn’t matter as long as it helps… When is that Sir Gevmwagjoshekegrit coming? It’s hard enough to remember one face, let alone so many…”

Lara muttered to herself anxiously as she stood at the forest entrance with us.

I considered waiting for her to calm down, but Agnes, who wasn’t particularly patient with such situations, broke the silence with her voice from behind.

“…So, how long do you plan to keep us standing here?”

“Wh-What?!”

“I heard from Sir Gevmwagjoshekegrit that you needed our help. Shouldn’t you at least explain the situation while we walk, or take us to our lodgings so we can discuss things properly?”

“Ah, w-wait a moment… I-I’m supposed to…”

As soon as Agnes voiced her frustration, Lara frantically pulled a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket and began reading it slowly from top to bottom.

Holding the wrinkled sheet tightly in both hands, Lara mumbled her way through the words. Having played through Lara’s event about fifteen times, I had a pretty good idea of what that paper was.

‘It’s probably a pre-written conversation guide for unexpected situations.’

It was like a script that celebrities or broadcasters read before going on air. The problem was that Lara relied on this script even in everyday situations, which showed just how severe her communication difficulties were. It wasn’t surprising—most witches had similar challenges, as I’d mentioned earlier.

In fact, the fact that she attended the Academy meant she was relatively better off. …Well, relatively speaking, of course.

Rushing her would only waste more time, so I deliberately approached the conversation with care.

“I-I know I had a section for responding to an angry person…”

“It’s okay, Miss Lara. You can take your time.”

“O-Okay… Um… N-Name…”

“I’m Lilith Blackwood Rosewood. You can call me Lilith or Rosewood, whichever is easier for you.”

“A-Alright… R-Rosewood…”

“The Witch’s Trial doesn’t start for another day or two, right? If it’s difficult to explain out loud, you can always write things down for us later. For now, could you show us where we’ll be staying?”

“Y-Yes, I’ll… I’ll do that…”

Offering solutions for what she found most difficult and giving her something tangible to focus on—that was the best way to handle interactions with Lara, a method I learned at Luminor Academy.

There was no point in rushing her like Agnes had earlier. It would only delay things and make the situation worse.

That’s why only the hero was able to communicate with her in the game, and why Sir Gevmwagjoshekegrit had sent me in his place. It was because I could handle this.

“P-Please f-follow me… Miss Rosewood… and the rest of you too…”

“Yes, Miss Lara Medichilling.”

As Lara finally started moving from the forest entrance, the rest of us—Agnes, Prince Antonio, and the others—followed behind her.

“Miss Agnes.”

“…What?”

“When dealing with someone like Lara, rushing them won’t help. You need to offer natural solutions while guiding them.”

“…I know. I knew that, but still, that was just… too much.”

“Well, I agree it’s a bit extreme, but people’s personalities vary, and we have to adjust to that.”

“…Fine. I’ll be more careful.”

I had originally thought this would be a straightforward mission, where we’d just help with the Witch’s Trial and follow the storyline. But now I was beginning to wonder if there might be unexpected complications ahead as we moved deeper into the Witch’s Forest.

⁎ ⁎ ⁎

As I mentioned earlier, all witches have some form of severe communication difficulty.

It wasn’t something that improved with age, either. After all, this entire forest was filled with people who had communication issues.

Introducing oneself to anyone in this village could take up to three days, and Lara, who at least managed to complete introductions on our first meeting, was, as I’d mentioned, ‘one of the better ones.’

“M-Mom…”

“…”

“These are the f-friends I mentioned… Th-Though I didn’t expect so many… I-Is it okay…?”

“…”

Lara Medichilling was asking her mother for permission to let us stay, much like a child asking if they could keep a pet.

Lara’s mother, however, just stared at her daughter without saying a word.

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

The two of them exchanged a long, awkward silence, communicating only with their eyes.

Agnes, who had been watching them uneasily, leaned in and whispered to me in a low voice, careful not to disturb the moment.

“…Are we not getting permission? She’s not saying anything.”

“Well, I think she’ll let us stay.”

“…Are you serious?”

“My personal feeling is that it would be stranger if she didn’t.”

“You’re saying that after seeing her expression? She looks completely unwelcoming…”

“You… You can come in… Rosewood… and everyone else too… O-Oh, and you’ll need to take your shoes off…”

Lara’s mother beckoned us inside by tilting her palm towards herself, then headed upstairs. Lara quickly followed after delivering the final message.

The others seemed confused by how a woman who had silently glared at her daughter moments ago could act this way, but I knew why and had no reason to hesitate.

“It’s fine to come in now, Prince Antonio. You too, Ed, Miss Agnes, Sir Colt.”

“…Are you sure? You and your companions are invited guests, but Sir Colt and I weren’t exactly expected.”

“And yet, you followed us all the way from the palace because of Agnes. Are you going to leave us here and take the carriage back?”

“…That’s not what I meant. I just didn’t realize Miss Lara and her mother were like this. Miss Lara is just shy, but her mother seems rather cold…”

“It’ll be fine. She only seems cold on the outside.”

“Hm… If you say so…”

“You can trust what Lilith says, Prince Antonio. I’ve never regretted following her advice so far.”

“If you don’t want to come in, you can just stand out here. I’m going in.”

“A-Agnes! W-Wait for me, I’m coming too!”

Ignoring Prince Antonio’s hesitation, Agnes took off her shoes and walked inside, forcing the Prince to quickly follow suit. I couldn’t help but be grateful that Agnes had unknowingly helped persuade him.

In the Witch’s Forest, worrying about appearances was foolish.

Living in this forest meant being raised by one’s mother, without a father. It was obvious whom Lara had inherited her communication difficulties from.

 

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