Saved By The Mad Duke
Chapter 123: Do You Still Think About Her?

Chapter 123: Do You Still Think About Her?

"Your powers have diminished, Bjarna, far too feeble for a witch of your rank," Ahspid remarked, his gaze fixed upon her as she gingerly readjusted her black canvas bag on the side of the horse’s saddle. Every movement of hers was scrutinized by his keen eyes, filled with insatiable curiosity.

Bjarna, still avoiding direct eye contact with the mage, responded with a hint of awkwardness in her voice,

"And what, pray tell, does that imply? Are you now questioning my abilities, after witnessing what I have achieved here?"

"Your condition was dire when the fire witch was summoned," Ahspid began, his tone laden with concern and slight suspicion. "You were barely able to sit upright, lost your ability to speak, and had to send Ylva right back once the curse was lifted. Even now, you appear as though it will take another day or two for you to fully recover. Normally, a witch’s powers should amplify with age, but in your case, I observe quite the contrary."

Finally, Bjarna turned around to meet Ahspid’s gaze, her expression a blend of resignation and defiance. She raised her shoulders in a nonchalant shrug and offered a faint, uneasy smile as she prepared to counter,

"It is quite audacious of you to make such offensive remarks. You are ignorant of the intricacies of necromancy, Ahspid. This branch of witchcraft is vastly more complex than others, so perhaps reserve your judgmental comments for your proteges instead."

While she did manage to sound somewhat convincing, the mage could not shake his suspicion. He knew all too well the cause of her weakened power—it was the influence of the Holy Church.

’The witches once held sway over us mages, but with the widespread use of magic and the growing prominence of alchemy, their influence has waned. They’re out of favor with the paladins, and likely under the watchful eye of the Holy Church as well. Aideen must have noticed something too... It is a relief she agreed to sign the magic contract. The last thing I need is attention from the paladins.’

Observing her old friend lost in contemplation, Bjarna decided to steer the conversation in a different direction, diverting his attention elsewhere.

"So, the princess is descended from a dragon, huh? Why hasn’t she returned to Utar then? I am sure her grandfather would be ecstatic! Who would have thought... All those forgotten legends turning out to be true."

Ahspid averted his gaze, finding the sudden change of topic rather inconvenient. With a casual shrug, he attempted to maintain an air of nonchalance and replied,

"Her place is here, in Geraldion. She is a member of the ruling family and is now the wife of Duke Valentine. Besides... It is best to keep her powers a secret. If word got out that she is part dragon, it could set off a disastrous chain of events. Believe me, I have seen it happen before."

"The combination of dragon and legendary mage powers... She truly is a rare gem. With her potential, she could have risen to rule the entire continent, striking fear into all who crossed her path. It is no wonder Ylva was hostile towards her affections... A woman of such strength should never be tethered to a man whose only pursuit is power that belongs to others."

Ahspid could only offer the witch a solemn nod; Bjarna’s words struck painfully at the chords of his weathered heart.

For a while, the witch silently observed the man, her silver eyes keenly tracking even the subtlest shifts in his expression. Finally, she released a long sigh, followed by an unexpected question,

"Do you still think about her? Do you believe the princess could help with her return, wherever she may be?"

Ahspid remained silent, his deep purple eyes fixed on the castle’s walls as he endeavored to recall every moment his thoughts were consumed by the person who was no longer by his side.

’Not a day has passed without her in my thoughts. Not a day without blaming myself for her fate. Not a day without wondering if she’d still be here had she never crossed my path. Not a day without feeling the ache of her absence.’

Yet, whether the painful memories of the past still haunted him or not, the mage harbored no desire to burden others with them. After all, it was the actions of others that had robbed him of the only person who truly mattered in his otherwise lonely life.

Finally, returning his gaze to the witch, the man steadied his racing heart and replied,

"It does not matter anymore. Whatever will be, will be."

Bjarna could not help but sigh once more.

"The fire witch inscribed her runes on the castle walls. Use your mana to ignite them. It is far too cold in there; I can’t believe you neglected to keep the castle warm. How typical of you."

The mage responded with another dismissive shrug, prompting Bjarna to choose to disregard it.

"When will your contract take effect? Will I forget our encounter as well?"

"The contract will take effect once you depart the castle’s territory. You will retain this memory, but anything concerning the princess will be forgotten. Consider it a friendly visit; after all, we were once friends."

The witch scoffed, affirming Ahspid with a nod.

As she mounted her horse, Bjarna gripped the leather reins, readying herself for departure. Then, with a surprising warmth in her tone, she turned back to Ahspid and said,

"I am truly sorry, Ahspid. I never had the chance to say it before, but I always have been. I regret it. I apologize for everything, sincerely."

Touched by the woman’s heartfelt words, the mage offered a brief nod and a wave of his gloved hand, which Bjarna reciprocated with a farewell wave of her own.

As her horse galloped away from the Duke’s castle, Bjarna pressed her left hand against her neck, furrowing her brows. Her voice, heavy with regret, whispered,

"I truly am sorry, Ahspid."