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The cliched fairytale ending, twisted by the antagonist. It’s not your story if you can’t even narrate it, porcelain doll.

Fantasy / Romance
Otherworldly Mail
Age Rating:

Chapter ???

And they lived happily ever after.

Lord Remington and his beloved, Ellerie, lived happily after—after watching the witch Larissa fall to her death from the top of the tower, plummeting straight to the ground without hitting as much as a branch. Indeed, this death was well thought-out by Lord Remington. The witch had come into being under his watch, right there in his castle—it was only reasonable that he would ensure she died completely.

Which was why, as Ellerie clung onto him, the master of the castle kept his crystal-blue eyes locked firmly on Larissa as she fell, never once tearing his gaze from her until at least five minutes after her body had fallen onto the prairie down below. His castle was an isolated ring of structures from the rest of the town, the city, the state; but it was by no means in poor state. The witch’s dark form on the ground stood in sharp contrast to the otherwise merry prairie.

“You’ve been staring for a long time, my something the matter? Do you miss her after all?” Ellerie asked, her large gray eyes reflecting only the Lord Remington in them. She saw no one else; she never did. In her tone was pure concern, unstained by jealousy.

Jealousy, something Larissa had seemed to be made up of, Remington thought.

At last, he turned his attention back to his wife. Chuckling softly, he patted her on the head, gentle as a husband should be.

“I don’t, Ellerie. I was just making sure she is actually dead. This witch was quite cunning after all. One has to be certain.”

“’re right.” The beauty’s brows furrowed. The thought hadn’t occurred to her before. “Ah, but I don’t want to look at a dead body, even if it is Larissa’s...or I would like to make sure too.”

“It’s fine, my princess. Other servants will make sure of it, though I have been staring for the past five minutes and nothing out of place seems to be happening.”

With this, Remington turned away from the window, walking toward the stairs to make his exit from the tower. “Clean up anything that needs cleaning,” he ordered as he passed a guard, who nodded in acknowledgement. “Ellerie, let’s go back to the main building.”


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