Dedicated to the Silent Witch

──Wrapped in a soft blanket, Monica drifted drowsily in and out of sleep as she dreamed.

Crunch, crunch, she walked along the familiar mountain path, treading on the dirt. Before long, the mountain hut came into view, and despite nearly a year having passed, it had barely changed from Monica's memory. The only real difference was that the clothesline was gone.

She said, "I'm home," and opened the door. Wind swept through the room, stirring up fine dust that sparkled as it reflected the sunlight.

When she looked around the room, the stacks of papers that had been scattered about when she left the mountain hut had been reduced to nearly a third of their former amount. Apparently, Louis had instructed his subordinates to organize some of them.

Monica brushed the dust from a wooden chair and sat down. Nero, who had taken the form of a cat, looked up at her and asked, "Ain't you gonna clean?"

Monica gave an ambiguous reply that was neither yes nor no and sat there absently.

She had thought that once she finished her assignment guarding the Second Prince and returned to this mountain hut, she would surely feel relieved.

But now that everything was over, all Monica felt in her chest was an emptiness, as though a hole had been opened there.

This must be what loneliness feels like. When was the last time she had felt lonely, despite once being so terrified of people that she could hardly stand it?

Monica slowly rose, opened the window, and began cleaning...