The Tyrant’s Guardian is an Evil Witch - Chapter 5

‘Let’s comfort him for now…!’

“And what do you mean by you’ll be fine when you don’t have a place to go back to anyway? huh?”

Her attempt at comforting him only served to make matters worse. Round, fat tears ran down the child’s cheeks as his slender shoulders trembled.

‘Was that not it?’

“What’s with th- the tears? Don’t do that! Stop crying.”

‘I don’t know what it was, but something I said must’ve made him sad. Please stop crying kid!’

As if he could hear her inner voice, Edmund returned shortly. He looked at Clette with a frustrated expression.

“Your Grace, I left for a short while and you’ve already made the child cry.”

“It’s really not because of me, he’s crying by himself… I didn’t do anything that would make him cry.”

Edmund eyed Clette, who tried to make an excuse after feeling wronged, with suspicion.

“I’m sure that’s the case, your grace. However, you’re the kind of person who would look terrifying to the little boy even when standing still.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Are you really asking because you don’t know? If so then taking a look in the mirror should suffice.”

Clette looked at her reflection in the mirror to see what exactly Edmund meant. The woman looking back at her had chilly long white hair accompanied with sharp blue eyes and a slender figure; her exquisite features resembled an ice sculpture.

Clette had the appearance of a snow queen, the likes of which could be found in Narnia and such. She could remain youthful despite being over 200 years due to the ability only witches had; to appear as young as 20 years old regardless of age.

“What’s wrong with my face, it’s beautiful.”

In the early days of the empire, when the original Clette was still active in society, the name ‘Clette’ was used as an adjective implying beauty. Even she fell in love with this face back when she had first transmigrated into this body. She would spend her time admiring the chilling beauty of her new face every day in the mirror.

Even in modern society, the name ‘Clette’ has become a legend, her fatal beauty still being painted by artists. The now pleased Duchess turned to Edmund, sure that nothing was wrong with her appearance.

“I am aware of the fact that you’ve been getting there in age, but you haven’t turned senile or gotten presbyopia right?”

“I haven’t.”

“Have you already forgotten the memory of you yelling that you love me and hanging onto me in tears?”

Despite bringing up such a memory to tease him, the once shy and young man only snorted at Clette. He, who couldn’t even look her in the eyes properly, was already old and gray. Edmund had become a person who didn’t react much to her words anymore.

“I was just young back then; Also, I’m not commenting on looks by the standards of ugliness or beauty. What child wouldn’t burst into tears after seeing your cold face.”

Edmund held the crying child in his arms and began soothing him.

“Please don’t cry, your highness. A smile suits your beautiful face much better than tears.”