"..."
Everyone realized they couldn't move. Aside from their thoughts, no part of their bodies obeyed them.
Clap, clap, clap—
"Don't be afraid, everyone. I'm not going to hurt you," Shichen said, clapping his hands to draw their attention back.
No one was inclined to believe him, but since they couldn't do anything else, they could only stare at him in silence.
"Don't look at me—look at her." Shichen gestured toward Emilia.
Emilia stood beside him with a serious expression. She had no idea what he was planning, but quietly cooperated. At the very least, she knew he would never do anything to harm her.
"I'm sure you've recognized her. That's right—this is Emilia, one of the five candidates for the crown."
"..."
They couldn't speak; they could only glare at him wide-eyed.
Shichen had no intention of letting them talk. Behaving as audience and listeners would do just fine.
"I know what you're thinking. Emilia is a silver-haired half-elf—the spitting image of the Witch of Envy from legend—so you're afraid and don't understand why she's a candidate."
In people's minds, the Witch of Envy was an unnatural monster. Four hundred years ago half the continent lay under her shadow; countless famed heroes and even dragons fell before her.
If not for the power of the Divine Dragon, the wisdom of the Sage, and the Sword Saint of that era, the world would have ended. Almost no one knew her true face. She spoke no language, couldn't be reasoned with, and seemed to hate the entire world, ruining everything wherever she went.
The tale, passed down in texts and by word of mouth, might differ in telling but not in outcome: the terror of it is planted deep in people's hearts.
Just looking similar shouldn't make her a pariah, but the half-elf witches people know of have all been eccentric and contrary. Being a half-elf is deterrent enough—being a silver-haired half-elf even more so.
"She's right here now. Look at her—at her lovely face, her graceful figure. Tell me—does she look frightening to you?"
"Shichen…" Emilia murmured, embarrassed.
Her shy look made a few eyes light up.
Prompted by Shichen, they discovered Emilia really was pretty and cute. Aside from a striking appearance, her manner and bearing were those of an ordinary girl—nothing like the rumor of a witch with erratic behavior.
Of course, that was also because they couldn't do anything else; they could only think along the lines he suggested. Under normal circumstances they'd have run off already, with no mind to take a careful look.
"Beautiful silver hair, fine features, a lovely face, a charming figure—do you truly think she's some terrifying being?" Shichen pressed.
"Shichen…" Emilia's cheeks flushed at his praise.
They found she looked even cuter when she blushed.
Maybe the witch… aside from the scary legend… maybe there was nothing else. She looked so cute.
"So—she's not scary, is she? If anything, she's adorable?" he asked.
They still couldn't move, but their eyes seemed to agree.
"Then what is there to fear? She's right here, and you can't do a thing—she has no intention of hurting you. Do you really need to be afraid?"
Heads nodded, almost involuntarily.
Shichen had quietly released their bodies, though the space itself remained locked.
"And besides, she's so cute that even if she did hurt you a little, wouldn't it almost be worth it?"
"Shichen…"
"Mm!" The crowd answered out loud without realizing they were already free to move.
"Huh?" Emilia glanced around, puzzled.
"Anyway, you may not know the details, but you do know a crown candidate isn't self-appointed. Emilia was chosen…"
He paused. Seeing their full attention, he continued, "Even so, she chose to participate. She knows perfectly well the trouble her appearance causes—you all know that, don't you?"
"We do!"
"Good. Then why is she still participating? Not because she craves the crown, but because she believes that since she has the qualification, she has the responsibility to take part—to take responsibility for you."
"For us?"
"That's right!"
Shichen was quite pleased someone was playing along.
"This country has no king and needs one. The five candidates are the nation's possible future monarchs. Since she might be the one, of course she must step up. If she turns out to be that future king, she must bear that responsibility."
"I see…"
"Whether she becomes king isn't the point. If there's even a chance, she wants to try—for you, to ease your worries."
"How… how noble!"
"And Emilia's only demand for her candidacy is one thing: fairness."
"Fairness?" someone asked, puzzled.
"Yes—fairness," Shichen nodded.
"Because of her looks, her road as a candidate is destined to be hard. All she asks is that you set prejudice aside and treat her like anyone else."
"So that's it…"
"You all think she's a witch—fine. If she were the witch, her strength would be unquestionable. Yet she disdains using force to change your prejudice. Isn't that remarkable?"
"Incredible!"
"Did we… misunderstand witches this whole time?"
"Maybe we didn't—but maybe Emilia can be different."
"Right, if she's been chosen, she must be a good person."
"Agreed…"
Shichen listened to the murmurs with satisfaction—these people were easy to sway. Perhaps that was why the witch's legend had sunk so deep. Good thing his guess was right; this was the moment to push them to accept Emilia head-on and drop the bias against her looks.
It wouldn't transform everyone at once, but a shift was enough—as long as they realized Emilia was just a cute girl. She might be called a witch, but not the kind people imagined—no bizarre behavior, no harm to others.
That was enough.
"Shichen…" Emilia looked at him, dazed. She hadn't expected people's view of her to change so easily. This had always been what she wanted to achieve. Sure enough, what Shichen did was for her sake.
Happiness welled up in her chest—she wanted to throw herself into his arms and be held, but this wasn't the time.
"Say a few words." He patted her shoulder.
"Okay."
Emilia's eyes grew firm. She drew a deep breath and looked out over the crowd. The hostility and disgust were gone.
"My name is Emilia—just Emilia. I am not the Witch of Envy. I am a witch—but…"
She paused, then flashed a playful smile. "I'm a good witch."
"Cute…"
"She really is cute."
"I think I'm falling for her…"
"Maybe witches aren't so bad, if they look this—"
"Hey, hey—what are you doing? You're not allowed to fall for my Emilia," Shichen cut in, warning them.
"What do you mean your Emilia? Who are you supposed to be?"
"Yeah! Get away from her!"
"Who are you?"
"Who am I?"
Shichen grinned. "If Emilia is a crown candidate, isn't my identity obvious?"
"You can't mean…?"
"That's right—I'm Emilia's chief knight!" he announced, as pleased as a child showing off.
"So you're just a knight. Big deal."
"Exactly. Besides, we might be her subjects someday."
"Honestly, having a witch as king sounds very safe."
"I'm going to support Emilia for king!"
"Emilia!"
"Emi—huh? Where'd Emilia go?"
"And the knight's gone too."
"Looks like we can move again."
"Weren't we free a while ago?"
"Where did she go?"
"It's fine—if she's a candidate, we'll see her again."
"Doesn't she stay out by the marches? I heard a margrave backs her."
"Turns out Emilia is different from the other witches—there's nothing wrong with her."
"Are all witches this pretty?"
"Don't know—but Emilia's very cute."
"She is… Hey—what are you doing?"
"What are you doing?"
"Emilia's mine!"