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Chapter 46: The Witch Trials (II)
Zayn studied her, letting silence stretch between them.
Right now she didn’t have that smug confidence. She wasn’t teasing him, wasn’t smirking or trying to get under his skin.
She looked small.
Vulnerable.
Like someone who had already accepted that they were going to lose.
Zayn drummed his fingers against the table, exhaling sharply.
"Alright," he said, his voice softer than before. "What’s in it for me?"
She looked up at him, eyes searching his.
Then, without hesitation, she said:
"I’ll give myself to you."
The words hung between them, heavier than the air in the café.
Zayn blinked, not sure if he had heard her right. "...What?"
The Witch Princess swallowed, her throat bobbing.
"I mean it," she said, and for once, there was no teasing lilt to her voice. "If you help me... if you fight for me... I’ll give myself to you. Completely."
His stomach tightened.
The way she said it — so earnest, so vulnerable — it did something to him.
It wasn’t just a flirtation.
It wasn’t just words.
She meant it.
All of it.
But that was exactly what made it dangerous.
Zayn clenched his jaw, forcing himself to look away for a moment.
His crimson eyes flickered to the window, watching as the afternoon sunlight danced over the cobblestone streets outside.
She was beautiful.
Damn beautiful.
But she was also scared.
And that was a problem.
Because when people were scared, they made desperate offers.
And desperate people did reckless things.
Zayn looked back at her, studying the way her shoulders were slightly hunched, the way she clenched her hands against her lap.
"You don’t want to lose, do you?" he said quietly.
The Witch Princess let out a shaky breath, barely a whisper. "...No."
Her voice cracked, just a little.
His jaw tightened.
"Look," he said finally, leaning forward. "I’m not the kind of guy who takes advantage of someone when they’re desperate. If you’re offering yourself to me because you think it’ll make me help you — "
"It’s not just that," she cut in, gripping the edge of the table. "I trust you."
Zayn froze.
Her golden eyes were steady, unwavering.
"I don’t know why," she admitted, voice quieter. "Maybe it’s stupid. Maybe I should be trying to find someone else, someone stronger. But... when I met you, when I saw how you fought, how you survived..."
So that settled it, she must have been watching him.
She let out a small, almost bitter laugh.
Zayn exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck.
"...You’re a pain in the ass," he muttered.
The Witch Princess let out a small, breathy laugh. "So I’ve been told."
Silence stretched between them again, but this time, it wasn’t as heavy.
Zayn sighed.
"...Fine," he muttered, slumping back into his chair.
The Witch Princess blinked. "...Fine?"
"You heard me," Zayn grumbled, crossing his arms. "I’ll fight for you."
Her eyes lit up almost immediately.
She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off.
"But I’m not doing it because of that stupid offer," he said firmly. "I’m doing it because you need someone. And I guess..." He exhaled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I guess I don’t mind being that person."
The Witch Princess stared at him.
Then, slowly, she smiled.
"Would you like to order something to eat?"
Zayn tapped his fingers against the wooden table, mulling over the witch’s words.
His crimson eyes flickered toward the café’s counter, where trays of steaming pastries and fresh bread sat on display.
He wasn’t particularly hungry, but the question still lingered in his mind.
"Would you like to order something to eat?" she asked again, tilting her head.
Zayn hummed, rubbing his chin as if stroking a nonexistent beard.
He had already eaten breakfast, and there were still things he needed to do today.
"Nah," he finally said, stretching as he stood up. "I need to shop for more clothes and some other stuff."
The Witch Princess rested her chin on her palm, watching him with an amused glint in her golden eyes. "Shopping, huh? That’s a little unexpected."
Zayn rolled his eyes. "I can’t keep walking around in borrowed clothes forever, can I?"
She giggled, standing up as well. "Then I’ll come with you."
His first instinct was to reject her.
Not because he had anything against her, but because shopping with someone else — especially a woman — always felt like an ordeal. But then again...
Who in their right mind would say no to shopping with a busty, beautiful woman?
He sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, sure. Do what you want."
The witch’s grin widened. "Good choice."
Zayn grumbled under his breath, but he didn’t actually mind. Probably.
The two of them left the café, stepping into the bustling streets of the marketplace.
The mid-afternoon sun cast a golden hue over the cobblestone roads, and the air buzzed with the sounds of merchants calling out their wares, customers bargaining, and children laughing as they weaved through the crowd.
Zayn adjusted the bag under his arm, making sure the armor he bought earlier was still secure.
’Damn illusion magic.’
He was still annoyed about how his things had turned into snakes earlier. That was some nightmare-fuel nonsense right there. But it was to be expected, she was a master of illusions after all.
The Witch Princess walked beside him, occasionally glancing at stalls filled with shimmering fabrics, ornate jewelry, and vials of glowing potions.
Even when she wasn’t talking, there was an elegance to the way she moved, a certain grace that made heads turn as they passed.
Zayn noticed a few men whispering and staring a little too long in her direction.
Of course.
Zayn had to give it to this world — fantasy proportions were definitely a thing here.
Not that Zayn was staring or anything.
...Okay, maybe a little. But in his defense, every other guy in this street was doing the same.
The Witch Princess suddenly turned her head, catching him mid-glance.
"Like what you see?" she teased, raising an eyebrow.
Zayn coughed into his fist. "I was just making sure no one was trying anything weird."
"Uh-huh. I’m sure that’s all it was," she said, her smirk widening.
He clicked his tongue, looking away.
’Damn it.’
They eventually stopped in front of a clothing establishment, one of the more well-maintained shops in the marketplace.
Unlike the street vendors, this place had actual walls and a proper entrance, with mannequins dressed in various outfits on display outside.
Zayn stepped forward, glancing through the selection. Most of it was light adventuring gear — tunics, cloaks, fitted pants — but there were also more elaborate pieces for nobles and merchants.
He needed something practical, something that wouldn’t weigh him down but could still handle a fight.
"Are you going to try anything on?" the Witch Princess asked, standing beside him.
"Obviously," Zayn muttered. "I’m not about to spend money on something that doesn’t fit."
She smiled. "Good. I’d love to see you in something other than hand-me-downs."
He gave her a flat look. "Are you implying I look bad?"
She tilted her head, pretending to consider. "Not bad, per se. Just... a little rough around the edges."
Zayn scoffed, stepping into the store before she could say anything else.
