Miss Witch, please don't leave your fragrance everywhere

Chapter 3: The Cursed Princess
The Kingdom of Bilsen, located on the eastern side of the continent, was a traditional monarchy currently ruled by the wise and benevolent King Andrew.

Since King Andrew ascended the throne, the kingdom had avoided any major conflicts. His skillful handling of the nobility and clergy kept political tension at bay. The people lived in peace, and traveling bards sang his praises without restraint.
Serving at his side was the venerable court magician Merlin, a man over ninety years old and respected across generations. Merlin had served under three kings, and under his guidance, Andrew’s only daughter and the kingdom’s future heir—Princess Ecricia—had also achieved remarkable success in the arcane arts.
Which made it all the more shocking to see King Andrew anxiously pacing inside the royal palace.

“Merlin, are you certain they’ll arrive in Bilsen today?”
The middle-aged man with a neatly trimmed beard had asked the question seventeen times already.
Merlin, the elderly mage with long white hair and an even longer beard, calmly stroked his chin and replied,

“Yes, Your Majesty. At the latest, they’ll arrive by sundown. That girl, Slude, might be a bit flighty, but she never shirks her duties.”
The last time King Andrew had looked this worried was the day Princess Ecricia was born. Merlin knew this wasn’t a matter of distrust—Andrew was simply a panicked father.
Suddenly, the magic in the air shifted—Merlin raised an eyebrow.

This was the activation of a high-tier spell. There wasn’t enough time to travel here through normal means, even by griffon. But with mastery of Projection—Sequence Two: Spatial Warp, it was entirely possible to teleport directly from the Misty Mountains to Bilsen.
A ripple of magic twisted space itself, and on the red carpet at the center of the throne room, two young women appeared out of thin air.
“Phew… I haven’t used that spell in a while. Ended up wasting more mana than necessary,” muttered one of them.

It was Angelica, the "Black Witch", lazily rubbing her shoulder. Contrary to popular belief, even witches didn’t have infinite mana. Public rumor suggested that high-tier mages were invincible gods, but that wasn’t remotely true.
“Whoa, we’re already here?” Slude looked around in awe. “Your Majesty, I’ve completed the mission!”
“So this is… the master that Merlin recommended?”

King Andrew’s expression froze. He knew Merlin’s mentor was an immortal witch—but he hadn’t expected her to look like a well-mannered little girl.
That illusion was immediately shattered.
“DIE, MERLIN!!”

In a sudden burst of rage, Angelica lifted her robe and delivered a flying kick directly to Merlin’s face, sending the court magician crashing to the floor. Without pause, she proceeded to stomp on him.
“‘A foul-smelling orc living in the mountains’? That’s what you’ve been calling me?! After I poured my heart and soul into teaching you magic?!”
“Oof—easy, easy! I’m just a fragile old man now—my bones can’t take this!”
“Oh? Trying to beg for mercy?”

“N-No, I was just thinking, maybe if you’re going to stomp me… you could take your boots off—GAH!”
Angelica dug her heel into the back of Merlin’s head.
“Dream on. Also, I just changed into these boots five minutes ago. They’re spotless.”

“Well that’s no fun…”
Merlin sighed in disappointment.
He’d never actually been stomped by Angelica before, but the idea had apparently crossed his mind more than once. He had seriously considered using his one favor from her to ask for it—but worried his soul would be forever cursed in the afterlife.

“Please don’t hurt my master! If you’re going to stomp someone, stomp me instead!”
Slude rushed forward to protect Merlin, tears welling up in her eyes.
King Andrew, meanwhile, stood frozen.

He had no idea what was going on. But it was terrifying.
Eventually, Angelica tired of her stomping spree. After bouncing a few times ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) on Merlin’s chest (eliciting the faint sound of cracking bones), she gracefully stepped off the battered old man and adjusted her hair like nothing had happened.
“Alright, time to get to work. Where’s the princess?”

“…This way,” said King Andrew, his mind still reeling.
The king himself led Angelica to the princess’s chamber.
Though it was still afternoon in the Misty Mountains, the time zone difference meant it was evening in Bilsen—just around the time when the curse would activate.

As they reached the door, King Andrew offered a word of caution.
“Ecricia is… a shy girl. And ever since the curse began, she’s locked herself away. She refuses to let anyone in—not even me. Not even her maids.”
“Is it really that bad?”

King Andrew sighed and stepped aside, giving Angelica space to enter.
The princess’s chamber was filled with ornate furniture and cosmetics. As a father, Andrew had given his daughter only the finest of everything.
Sitting on the bed, her face buried in her hands, was a silver-haired girl—Princess Ecricia.

Her nightgown, though not particularly tight, still accentuated her delicate curves. Slude had only said her “lower body had changed,” but she’d left out a crucial detail.
Let’s just say… it was very hard to hide that kind of change. Even with a long skirt.