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The Frog Prince and the Witch Chapter 22

Translated by MissQ (ko-fi)


Chapter 22: The Witch of the Snow


After the bonfire, the number of villagers visiting Joanna’s home began to increase. While they still did not see Joanna, who remained indoors during the day to avoid the sun's heat, Ian was more than willing to engage with them. His friendly demeanor made many older women feel at ease, and the older men admired him for choosing to stay by Joanna's side, seeing him as a thoughtful companion.


Moreover, when Ian mentioned Joanna's medical skills, more villagers became interested in visiting her during the evenings. Many learned of her sensitive skin, which explained her absence during the day.


One uncle, who had previously been prescribed herbs by Joanna, expressed his regret. "Why didn’t you tell us? We all thought you avoided us, so we kept our distance. I didn’t realize you were confined indoors! We’ve misunderstood you for far too long!"


"...Ah?"


"While it's true that those with true depth never boast about their qualities, you're being far too modest—keeping quiet about your condition! Please don’t do that anymore; now we feel so embarrassed for misunderstanding you all this time." The uncle gently patted her shoulder, leaving behind some fabric as payment for her remedies. "I see you wear the same clothes every day, so I happen to have some fabric suitable for your age. Go ahead and make yourself some new outfits!"


Joanna hesitated. "Actually, this is a custom in my family. It’s best to wear black and blue…"


"Really! Is that so? What a peculiar tradition…" The uncle's tone carried a hint of complaint once more. "Why didn’t you say anything? We all thought you were trying to provoke people’s attention, dressed like a widow despite having no one passed away at home... Now that I think about it, your mother just moved here not long before she died, and she wore similar black and blue dresses. So, have you taken it upon yourself to continue wearing what your mother did?"


"Uh, yes…"


"What a good girl!" the uncle sighed. "It’s been so long since your mother passed, and you still remember the dress she wore… Well, I must be going now; otherwise, my wife will nag at me again."


Without needing Joanna to see him off, Ian quickly stepped in to take over her duties, properly sending the guests on their way. At the door, where Joanna couldn't see, he explained her shyness as the reason for her quiet demeanor, ensuring the uncle left in good spirits.


Upon returning, Ian glanced at the pink fabric with a hint of regret. He understood that, as the Witch of the Wilderness, Joanna was bound to wear a dark blue dress. It wasn't merely a matter of formality; just as priests have their robes and chefs their uniforms, she needed garments that reflected her identity as a witch. Although the villagers might not fully grasp her role, she had to maintain the symbols that belonged to her. Unbeknownst to her, her silence led to misunderstandings, making her believe she was being ostracized by the very community she sought to connect with.


Ian's presence shattered that barrier, deepening Joanna's worries for his heart illness.


Watching Joanna hold the fabric up to him, Ian felt a mix of emotions. "Is Mistress asking me to wear this pink color?"


He had never worn such a feminine shade before, but if it was his goddess who wanted him to don it... Even more thrilling was the thought that this might be a dress crafted by her own hands. Just imagining it made him feel like he could soar into the sky!


Joanna was a bit conflicted herself. Pink didn't quite suit her home, yet not using it felt like a waste... But putting it on him didn’t seem quite right either.


"If you don't like it, I'll just toss it aside," Joanna sighed. Although it was a waste, she could always find another color of fabric later to make him something new.


"No! I like it!" he exclaimed, holding the fabric tightly. "If it's made by Mistress, I’ll love it!"


"Are you sure you're not forcing yourself?"


"Not at all!" Ian chuckled, his eyes crinkling with joy. "As long as it's made by you, Mistress! Does it come with a witch's blessing?"


"If that's what you want."


"Yes! Of course!" Ian's enthusiasm bubbled over, but before he could say more, the doorbell chimed.


This was no ordinary doorbell; it only chimed when a magical visitor approached, and the rhythm of the chimes revealed who the guest would be.


Upon hearing it, Joanna felt a sense of curiosity about the upcoming visitor. "It’s the sister of the Northern Snow. What brings her here at this time?" Summer was hardly the preferred season for the Witches of the Snow.


"You should go to sleep now; I might be chatting with my sisters for a while," Joanna gently urged Ian, who was reluctant to leave. Once she finally got him to rest, she opened the window and spotted a white figure approaching from afar. As the silhouette on the broomstick drew nearer, the temperature noticeably dropped, and when the Witch of the Snow finally landed on her windowsill, a chilling gust of wind followed.


"Long time no see, sister of the wilderness," the Witch of the Snow said, her voice smooth and melodic. She wore a cloak of fox fur that accentuated her elegant demeanor.


"Likewise, sister of the snow." 

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