Zen looked at the Grand Witch as he picked up a piece of bread and brought it to his mouth, taking an unhurried bite before placing his hand back down on the table.
His movements were casual, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes as he noticed the way her gaze followed the movement of his hand. He raised an eyebrow, then leaned back slightly as he smirked.
"Do you have any other fetish than a man’s wrist?" he asked dryly. "I could expose my abs if you like."
The great witch- Dorothy Green almost choked on her drink as she heard the sudden outrageous remark. She’d heard that Prince Zen had a propensity to be inappropriate but this was....for a moment she looked at him and then the mistress, trying to decide whether to apologize on his behalf or crawl under the table and disappear.
The Grand Witch, however, froze in surprise - and then burst into laughter, the sound deep and full of mirth.
"You do have very attractive wrists," she admitted between chuckles, "but you are far too young for me, you little dog! I’m old enough to be your great-grandmother!"
Zen tilted his head, pretending to assess her as if he were genuinely considering it. "You don’t look it," he said with mock seriousness. "So I don’t think you are."
That only made the Grand Witch laugh harder. Her laughter filled the small cottage, echoing off the stone walls. Dorothy pressed a hand to her forehead, muttering something under her breath about how this entire meeting was doomed.
"If I were a hundred years younger," the Grand Witch managed to say between laughs, "I might have agreed!"
Zen blinked, feigning surprise. "You’re more than a hundred years old?" he asked. "You certainly don’t look it."
The woman who looked no older than forty grinned, her eyes bright with amusement. "It has been many, many years since I met a rascal bold enough to tease me. It is good to meet you, Prince Zen."
Zen smiled at that, his expression seemingly soft as if he really had been only flirting. Ignoring Dorothy, who looked one comment away from a coronary, he leaned forward again, resting his elbows on the table. "So," he said, arching a brow, "are you going to tell me why you’ve been staring at my wrist like you want to cut them off and hide them away?"
The Grand Witch’s laughter quieted at that, though her amusement didn’t fade completely.
Her eyes flicked once more to the bracelet tied around his wrist. She didn’t answer right away, as if she were carefully choosing her words.
Then she said slowly, "Prince Zen, I am merely curious about the bracelet you wear. It looks... unusual. Quite rudimentary, in fact - and rather out of place on your wrist."
Zen’s smile stayed, though it no longer reached his eyes. The warmth in his tone cooled, and his voice dropped slightly as he answered, "Is that so? But I happen to like it."
But even as he said it, he had to forcefully curb the urge to pull down his sleeve and hide the bracelet.
The Grand Witch’s eyes lingered on the bracelet for another long moment, but when she finally looked back up, she didn’t comment further.
Instead, her tone shifted, as though she was merely curious, "So, how is your mate doing? You must be missing her, hmm? It can’t be pleasant—travelling all this way, accompanying my apprentice, and now resorting to flirting with an old woman like me just to pass the time, while you miss your mate. Added to that, she must be heart broken about the slave bond... How is she holding up, Prince Zen?"
Zen’s fork paused midway to his mouth. For a second, his expression didn’t change, but the faint flicker in his eyes was enough to betray the jab had landed
But then, he shrugged and without a word continued to eat, his attention fixed on his plate as if he had not even heard the question.
Dorothy glanced between them nervously, sensing the subtle change in air again and wondered why she had thought to bring a Prince to accompany her. She should have asked the Crown Prince for a much simpler warrior. At least he would have been easier to control.
The Grand Witch studied him, her smile thinning slightly at his non answer. Then, she exhaled softly and commented, "Still the same proud ones. You children always think that silence hides everything."
Zen didn’t respond.
Finally, the Grand Witch leaned back in her chair and folded her hands before her. "The stone in your hand," she said suddenly, her voice losing its teasing lilt. "Have you seen any other like it?"
Zen’s movements stilled. He looked up at her slowly, his grey eyes narrowing just a fraction. He had seen it of course. Kael had one that Emira had given him in golden colour. But he was not going to volunteer that information.
So, with deliberate care, he set down his fork beside his plate and leaned back, mirroring her posture.
"For someone who insists she won’t be telling us anything you sure have a lot of questions that you want answers to.
The Grand Witch’s lips curved, her laughter returning, "Ah, fair enough," she said indulgently as if she were coaxing a child, "Fine, fine. Since you are my guest, perhaps I should tell you something instead. Now, since I am forbidden from answering questions without payment, how about I tell you a story?"
Zen’s cold smile reappeared. "I might be a hundred years younger than you," he said quietly, "but I assure you, I don’t need bedtime stories yet."
That earned another hearty laugh from the old woman. "Oh, Prince Zen," she said, shaking her head slightly, "you might be surprised. Not every story is meant to put children to sleep. Some are meant to wake them up."
Dorothy turned toward her mistress, her curiosity momentarily breaking through her discomfort. The Grand Witch glanced at her apprentice and then back at Zen, her expression softening, as though what she was about to say had long been waiting for the right ears.
"I assure you," she continued, "you will be interested in this one. It is not about kingdoms or wars or noble sacrifices. But it is about an Omega... who loved three brothers.