Miss Witch, please don't leave your fragrance everywhere

Chapter 2: Inaction
The witch awoke from her slumber to find the one she loved gently caressing her cheek.

“You’re awake, dear sister.”
“Mmm… how long did I sleep?”
“Six hours.”

“Then it’s time to get up. There’s still much to do.”
The exchange between witches was brief.
The founders of the Kingdom of Yamaurote were two witches: the "Black Witch" Angelica and her younger sister, the "Orange Witch" Violette—or as Angelica preferred to call her, Viola.

They were not # Nоvеlight # sisters by blood, but their bond was deeper than any sibling’s. More than lovers, even—something closer to soulmates.
“Where did I leave off yesterday… Right. The miners are striking over unfair treatment, housing disputes broke out, and now the mages are demanding special privileges. My head’s going to explode.”
“……”

“Viola?”
“You used to give me a good morning kiss, Sister.”
Viola’s orange bangs gently swayed. Her eyes shimmered with sadness.

“Sorry. I guess I’m still a little groggy.”
Angelica gave her a belated kiss on the forehead. In that single moment of contact, the exhaustion from body and soul seemed to melt away.
“...You’re not groggy at all, are you, Sister?”

Viola caught Angelica’s wrist, preventing her from slipping back into the never-ending demands of governance.
“I have other matters to attend to. Don’t be difficult, Viola. When everything settles down, I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
“I already took care of it while you were resting.”

“...What did you do?”
“Suppression.”
“No. That’s not the way, Viola. These people are already oppressed…”
“Yes. They are.”

Viola held tightly onto her sister’s wrist.
“The miners on strike? They were slaves before. You were the one who saved them from the whip. The mermen fighting over housing? Their magic is weak, and they’d have been slaughtered by beastkin had you not offered them shelter. The elven mages? They were lapdogs to the high elves, but you taught them real magic. Just like the adventuring party always said—some people were never meant to have freedom.”
“No… that’s not true.”

Angelica shook her head. To say she never had such dark thoughts would be a lie—but she never gave into them.
“Maybe my methods were flawed… but I still believe that living a happy life in the sun is a right that belongs to every race, to every person.”
“If that kind of place doesn’t exist, we’ll create it. Isn’t that what you always said?”

Viola lowered her head and mumbled, hiding her face. Angelica couldn’t see her expression.
Yes. If no utopia could be found, then why not build one?
Angelica had believed it could be done. That it could succeed. So why… had it all gone so wrong?

—Not long ago, this land had been a barren wasteland.
The witch had arrived with a band of wanderers and named this place Yamaurote, a sanctuary for the lost and abandoned.
She killed the monsters so starving children wouldn’t have to fear death.

She brought spring to the land, allowing barren fields to bear fruit once more.
When did it all spiral out of control?
Angelica’s gaze grew distant.

She was a magical prodigy, one of the only mages in history to reach the rank of Extraordinary. In her youth, many doubted that such a level even existed—some called it a hoax. That’s how rare it was.
But even prodigies have their flaws.
A young witch. A beautiful witch. Her followers saw only that.

The truth? Angelica’s appearance matched her inner self more than they realized.
She was young. And naive.
Her journey had been far too smooth. She’d never encountered a true, life-changing setback.

Like a child favored by fate, she believed she could do anything and succeed.
Viola, watching her sister's despair, stayed silent.
She knew how smart Angelica was. Even if she wouldn’t admit it, she had to understand where she’d gone wrong. She just didn’t want to face it.

The Kingdom of Yamaurote had been built from nothing—Angelica had led a group of people who had lost everything.
Back then, when survival was the priority, people accepted their hardships. But once life became easier—once prosperity came—people began to demand more. It was only natural.
But Angelica had no idea how to manage a growing nation's tangled web of desires.

At her core, she was no more mature than her doll-like appearance suggested.
If not for her overwhelming magical power, she'd have been overthrown long ago.
Blaming everything on “ungrateful citizens” would be unfair. The truth was, the seeds of disaster were sown by Angelica herself.

In the beginning, she had made far too many promises—too idealistic, too optimistic. She overestimated the kingdom’s future, and most of those promises went unfulfilled.
A farce, really.
Years later, the witch would sometimes think back on Yamaurote with deep regret.

Perhaps she should’ve simply walked away, let the kingdom collapse into chaos. Anything would have been better than the tragedy that followed.
Even the most ridiculous farce... is better than a tragedy.