Rewrite That Witch
CH469 · Rewrite
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Chapter 469: Don’t Make Her Wait Forever

Roland walked into his office the next morning humming and found Wendy already there.

“Congratulations.” She smiled and poured over the events of the past few days — Summer’s demonstration, the verification problem, the gold royal paid in advance to the mother. “If you need her, I can summon her to the castle today.”

“The first witch to awaken in my territory.” He stepped around the books still scattered across the floor and poured her a cup of tea. “And the first recruited under the public notice.” His face had gone bright, and then uncertain. “But she’s not here now?”

“Nightingale wasn’t available to verify her identity.” Wendy explained Scroll’s reasoning without editorializing.

“That wasn’t a bad call.” He nodded. “Have her come in this afternoon to sign the contract.”

“Yes, my lord.” A pause. The pause had weight. “There’s something else.”

“Go ahead.”

“Aren’t you troubled — by the rumors about you and the Witch Union? And…” She pressed through whatever was stopping her. “My ability may not be suited to leading it. Scroll has more experience. She’s more clear-headed about these things. I think she should be in charge.”

Roland looked at her with what he recognized as interest. “I assume you raised this with Scroll already.”

“Huh?”

“And she told you that you were the best candidate.” He sighed. “I feel exactly the same way. Administrative methods can be learned. Temperament is much harder to change.” He watched her face. “You do realize that among all the witches, the one everyone loves most — after Maggie — is you? Scroll will be busier than ever now, running the education department. She won’t have time to be the first face a new witch sees. That’s your strength, not hers.” He leaned back. “Give yourself some credit. I have a good eye for people.”

Wendy had not finished opening her mouth when he continued. “As for the rumors — I’ve underestimated them. I never thought that this body’s… previous reputation would travel so far.” He turned it over in his mind. “I need to address it. Better publicity, and something more structural. I want the Witch Union to run as an independent department.”

“Independent?”

“Like the City Hall.” He had considered this before. A dozen witches could still be managed; hundreds or thousands could not. They needed a governing structure that operated without him at the center of every decision — one that assigned roles, tracked abilities, communicated with allied organizations. He would function as advisor, not administrator. He explained this.

Wendy said, hesitantly, “But the City Hall has hundreds of people. We have a dozen sisters, all of them with their own work. And how does independence change what people think of us?”

“Rumors come from the unknown. The town accepts Nana and Lily because they’ve personally experienced what witches do.” He set down his cup. “If commoners can be part of the Witch Union — as staff, as administrators, doing the organizational work alongside the witches — they’ll understand it from the inside. You won’t need to fight the rumors. The people themselves will correct them.” He was thinking of academies of science as he said it, the way they ran: researchers at the center, a hundred ordinary people managing the daily architecture of the institution. “It also solves the problem of insufficient staff.”

“I see.” She turned this over carefully. “How do we recruit?”

“That’s yours to figure out — you’ll be operating independently, which means your own recruiting and screening.” He rubbed his chin. “Ask Countess Spear. She knows how to build an organization with witches at its center. Start small — hire one assistant, one staff member, and learn the shape of the thing before it gets large. After the Months of Demons, I’ll have a building constructed next to the City Hall. That’s your base.”

He didn’t say what else he was thinking: that the Witch Union wouldn’t only serve the Western Region, or even Graycastle. If the infrastructure was right, the day he absorbed other kingdoms he could extend it immediately, branch by branch.

“I understand.” She took a breath that was quieter than a sigh. “If you’ve decided to give me this task, I’ll carry it out.”

After she left, Roland returned to the books.

He found himself thinking about last night instead of organizing. Anna’s hair against his chest, the precise warmth of her hands, the way she had looked at him afterward — as though whatever question she’d been holding had finally received an answer she trusted. He had changed too, in ways he could feel but not yet name. She had been a frightened girl when he first met her. She had burned her own clothing without flinching. Now she was something else entirely — certain in her own weight, graceful with her own strength, and he had been sitting here for a year letting the moment remain perpetually in the future.

I should take the initiative.

His hand touched another hand.

He startled. Nightingale was crouched beside the pile, holding out a book. “Let me help.”

“Oh.” He blinked. He had not noticed her entering. He had not noticed, either, whether she had been in the room last night.

“I left immediately,” she said, reading him with the ease of long practice. “I didn’t stay to be the third wheel.” She kept her eyes on the books. “She doesn’t repress things. After all that time apart, I knew what she’d do. So I left.”

“Is that so.”

With two of them working, the books were on the shelves quickly. Roland slid the last volume into the final gap.

“Alright.” He stepped back. “Thank you.”

“Alas.” She was already moving toward the window. “How long are you going to drag this on? Don’t make her wait forever.”

He turned. The fog had closed around the empty air where she had been.

He stood there a moment. The words were still in the room even after she wasn’t.

Although her voice had been very low, he was certain about what he had heard.

…and don’t make me wait forever either.

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