Rewrite That Witch
CH531 · Rewrite
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Chapter 531: The Romance

“Is this really okay?”

“What?”

“Sending Iffy, Softfeathers, and Lotus to Border Town.” Ashes wrapped her arms around Tilly from behind, chin resting near her shoulder. “It was Heidi Morgan’s idea, wasn’t it?”

Ever since Tilly had learned of the Sealine’s existence, she had given herself entirely to the study. Books rose in towers on every surface—some from Roland, some retrieved from ruins—and the candles burned late. Watching that slight figure half-buried in paper, Ashes felt the familiar ache of helplessness.

“Mm.” Tilly set down her quill and leaned back into Ashes’ arms. “Morgan didn’t want me maintaining ties with the commoners alone, and I had no reason to refuse her.”

“But the commoner is your elder brother. What gives her the right to choose for you?”

“She’s also of the royal line.” Tilly shook her head, a faint smile crossing her lips. “The higher the rank, the looser the blood ties—it’s true in every kingdom.” Heidi understood that perfectly. It was precisely why she’d acted.

“She means to compete with you for His Highness Roland’s favor?”

“Not yet. This time she only wants to take the measure of things.”

“Then why let her?” Ashes loosened her arms, voice dropping low. “Perhaps I should have a word with her myself.”

It was Tilly’s warmth—her capacity for mercy—that had bound the Sleeping Island witches together, women who had spent years hunted and broken by the Church. But mercy was not an open invitation. Not a weakness to probe.

Ashes was already turning when Tilly’s hand closed around her wrist.

“Why not let her?” Tilly said. “I had no reason to refuse—I meant that. Sleeping Island is our home. Every witch here is a freewoman. I won’t constrain anyone so long as they do no harm.” A slow exhale. “And sending them to the Western Region isn’t the worst thing that could happen.”

“Not the worst—”

“Have you ever asked yourself why the Bloodfang Association witches started the same as any of us, yet became something so different?”

Ashes considered it. “Their lives stabilized?”

“Exactly.” Tilly nodded. “Before, the Church pressed down on all of them—survival required unity. But the Fjord churches are gone now, and Sleeping Island is no longer a desperate refuge. When the pressure lifts, people change. That’s natural. We’re a compound of many organizations; suppression won’t hold us together as it once did. If I want them to cooperate the way they used to, they need to encounter the thing we’re all fighting.”

Ashes frowned. “You mean—the demons.”

“The enemies beyond the Fertile Plains. The Union’s collapse four hundred years ago. The third Battle of Divine Will drawing close.” Tilly smiled. “They can discover all of this themselves. It will mean more than anything I could tell them. And in Border Town—” her voice warmed “—there is so much more to see.”

She rose and walked through the study, through the rear door, and pushed it open onto the castle’s back courtyard. Sea light flooded in.

“They’ll see that non-combat witches play roles that can’t be replaced. That commoners can be as formidable as witches. They’ll see what becomes possible when everyone works toward the same thing.” She held the door open a moment longer. “Like this door. Push it, and the world grows larger.”

Ashes stood still and watched her—this woman haloed in sea-light, grey hair lifting in the breeze, astonishingly beautiful even seen from behind. Time slowed to nothing. The narrow study held only the two of them.

After a long moment, Tilly turned with a sly smile. “I had particular reasons for choosing Iffy and Softfeathers specifically. Roland will be sharp enough to perceive them.”

Anna nudged Roland out of his sleep.

“Time to get up.”

“A moment.” He turned over and gathered her in, face buried in her hair.

After the long road back from King’s City, they had spent the whole night together—the reunion made all the more vivid for the separation that had preceded it. Neither of them had emerged the following morning. For the first time, Anna had let her magic practice go; not because she hadn’t wanted to, but because Roland hadn’t let her leave. She, in turn, had not tried very hard to go.

From noon to dusk, the bedroom held only them. Between stretches of quiet, they lay propped against the pillows and talked—what had happened in both cities, the small things they’d missed in each other’s absence, the larger things they were still working out. A maid brought lunch; when she knocked, Anna vanished beneath the quilt. Roland lowered his eyes and found her watching him from his chest, sapphire-bright, biting back laughter.

He stroked the length of her back and she made a sound—low and involuntary, like a cat settling into warmth. A year had changed her: no longer the thin, breakable girl he’d first seen in the prison cell. Now when she curled into him she fit perfectly, her body knowing his. When he pressed his lips to her earlobe he could watch the flush climb her cheek and her lashes tremble. It undid him every time.

She pushed him away again at last.

“Wendy and the others will be back soon—with the new witches.” Anna turned to face him, her expression composed and absolute. “You need to wash up.”

“Mm.” He knew she was right; postponing further was no longer reasonable. He kissed her once, lightly, and rolled out of bed. He helped her dress first, then shrugged into his own coat.

The basin on the table had gone cold, but this was never a problem for Anna. A thread of black fire curved into the water; steam rose instantly. He washed, walked Anna back to the bedroom, then climbed to his third-floor office and arranged himself behind the desk—the pretense of a man who had been working diligently all morning.

Fifteen minutes later, Lightning and Maggie came through the French window in a rush of wings.

“Your Majesty, they’re here.”

“Who could have imagined you’d become King of Graycastle in a single month.” Breeze entered the great hall ahead of the others, Lotus and Honey behind her, and two unfamiliar faces beyond them. “If Wendy hadn’t told me, I wouldn’t have believed it. When Tilly finds out, she’ll be astonished.”

Roland crossed the hall to meet them. “I haven’t held an enthronement yet—my old title is fine.”

“Even so, you’ve more than earned the one you have,” Breeze said, and bowed.

Lotus and Honey dipped into the same bow with exaggerated flourish, suppressing smiles. The two strangers placed one hand flat over their chests—a greeting that was polite and nothing more. Where the three he knew radiated warmth, these two offered only careful assessment.

Roland kept the surprise off his face.

“You had a hard journey,” he said, gesturing toward the hall. “Tonight, enjoy the feast. Make yourselves comfortable. This is your home as much as any other place.”

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